THE  MARRIAGE  OF  THEODORA 


"It  was   Theodora's   fixed   intention   to   charm 
Lord  lermor  at  that  moment ' 

(page  313) 


The  Marriage  of 
Theodora 

By  MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL 


Author  of  "  Children  of  Destiny,"  "  T»  e  House  ot 
Egremont,"  etc. 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE 
BY   THE   KINNEYS 


A.  L.   BURT  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BT 
DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

Published,  March,  1910 


Ota  the  bear  mtmorg 
of 


'And  sweetly  ,  from  the  far-off  years 
Comes  borne  the  laughter,  faint  and  low, 
The  voices  of  the  long  ago  — 
My  eyes  are  met  with  tender  tears." 


2229160 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  A  MODERN  ENGLISHMAN     ....  1 

II  THEODORA 12 

III  REGENERATION 27 

IV  THE  BREAKING  FROM  BONDAGE      .      .  43 

V  EXPIATION 56 

VI  THE  PORTAL  OF  THE  HEART     ...  70 

VII  THE  PERPLEXITIES  OF  LADY  SUSAN     .  88 

VIII  WEAVING  AND  UNWEAVING  ....  101 

IX  KING'S  LYNDON  TELLS  ITS  STORY  .      .  101 

X  THE  OLD,  OLD  ENGLAND    ....  119 

XI  WHAT  DREAMS  WILL  COME       .      .      .  128 

XII  VISITORS  AT  KING'S  LYNDON     .      .      .  141 

XIII  SUNRISE ..,-'.  154 

XIV  LORD  CASTLEMAINE  is  PUZZLED      ,.      .  169 

XV  LIGHT!  MORE  LIGHT! 182 

XVI  THE  SOUL  AND  THE  HEART       .      .      .  1P7 

XVII  THE  COMEDY  OF  FATE 212 

XVIII  BATTLES  OF  THE  SPIRIT       ....  222 

XIX  THE  DARKNESS  AND  THE  LIGHT     .      .  235 

XX  THE    CRUCIBLE 254 

XXI  THE  RECKONING  DAY  265 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

XXII  THE  HEART  OP  A  WOMAN    ... 

XXIII  THE  COUNCILS  OF  FRIENDS       .      . 

XXIV  Tnn  TRUCE  OF  LOVE     .      .      ..    . 
XXV  GOD  AND  MANY  MEN 

XXVI  THE  HONOURS  OF  KING'S  LYNDON 

XXVII  THE  HOSTS  OF  KING'S  LYNDON     . 

XXVIII  TRIUMPHANT  DEMOCRACY    .     •     . 

XIX  THE   DAWN 

XXX  IN  THE  MORNING  GLOW  . 


CHAPTER    I 

A    MODERN    ENGLISHMAN 

THE  rosy  dusk  of  a  June  evening  lay  upon  great 
London  town.  The  trees  in  Hyde  Park  loomed  large 
in  the  soft,  still  twilight,  and  the  Serpentine,  dark 
and  quiet,  reflected  the  stars  that  stole  into  the 
purple  sky.  The  noises  of  traffic  had  ceased,  and  the 
laughter,  the  lights,  and  the  gaiety  of  the  evening 
had  not  yet  begun.  Nearly  every  house  in  the  wide 
and  spacious  Queen's  Gate  was  illuminated.  The  bal- 
conies and  windows  were  masses  of  pink  and  white 
blooms,  whose  delicate  odour  made  the  summer  night 
fragrant. 

Three  great  houses,  in  a  row,  however,  showed 
no  signs  of  festivity.  On  the  drawing-room  balcony 
of  the  middle  one,  Castlemaine  House,  Lady  Susan 
Battle,  tall,  broad  and  oracular,  was  laying  down 
the  law  and  the  prophets  to  her  brother,  the  Earl  of 
Castlemaine,  and  the  heir  presumptive,  Lord  Fermor. 

"I  protest,"  cried  Lady  Susan  wrathfully,  ar- 
ranging her  satin  draperies  of  a  violent  red,  "  the 
next  thing  I  expect  to  hear  is  that  some  American 
has  taken  Buckingham  Palace  for  the  season  and 
converted  Westminster  Abbey  into  his  private 
chapel.  What  do  you  think  that  good-looking, 
painted  Jezebel,  Flora  Bellenden,  told  me  to-day? 


2        THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

That  this  man  Seymour,  who  lives  next  door,  had 
taken  King's  Lyndon  on  a  seven-years'  lease.  I 
told  her  she  didn't  know  what  she  was  talking  about 
but  nothing  can  abash  that  woman." 

At  the  mention  of  Mrs.  Bellenden's  name,  Lord 
Castlemaine  gave  Lord  Fermor  a  significant  half- 
glance  which,  however,  discovered  nothing.  Fer- 
mor, the  perfect  type  of  a  slim,  sinewy,  high-caste 
Englishman,  did  not  so  much  as  wink  an  eyelash 
at  the  mention  of  the  lady's  name,  which  he  might 
be  supposed  to  defend  from  the  charge  of  being  a 
painted  Jezebel. 

Lady  Susan,  having  mounted  her  hobby,  which 
was  detestation  of  Americans,  proceeded  to  lash  it, 
and  spur  it.  Lord  Castlemaine  listened  with  a  grin. 
He  was  not  without  sympathy  for  the  Lady  Susan 
Battles  of  England.  It  was  a  grievous  thing  that 
with  hordes  of  unmarried  girls  in  England,  and  a 
scant  supply  of  men,  the  Americans  should  cull  the 
best  of  the  crop  of  husbands.  Lord  Castlemaine, 
himself,  admired  American  women  aesthetically, 
and  preferred  shamelessly  to  have  an  American  sit 
next  him  at  dinner.  But  he  had  no  especial  fancy 
for  the  splendid  uncertainties  of  an  American  heir- 
ess' fortune.  It  was  invariably  too  well  secured  to 
the  wife,  and  the  husband  sharing  it  depended  too 
much  upon  his  good  behaviour.  Nevertheless,  Lord 
Castlemaine  was  willing  to  proclaim  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent set  of  sentiments,  for  the  pleasure  of  harassing 
Lady  Susan.  Fermor  listened  to  the  conversation 


A   MODERN    ENGLISHMAN  3 

abstractedly;  he  was  not  much  interested  in  Ameri- 
cans. 

The  father  and  son  were  singularly  alike  in  spite 
of  the  gap  of  thirty  years  between  them.  Lord 
Castlemaine  carried  his  sixty-five  years  with  cour- 
age. He  had  lived  hard,  gambled  hard,  drank  and 
dined  much  and  often,  and,  what  was  more,  had 
worked  hard.  He  was  endowed  with  great  wit  and 
great  passions  and  he  used  the  one  to  gratify  the 
other.  One  of  his  strongest  passions  was  for  the 
House  of  Lords.  He  would  leave  Newmarket  at  any 
moment  when  there  was  a  field  night  on  in  the  Upper 
House.  And  he  had  been  known  to  abandon  Monte 
Carlo,  in  the  height  of  the  season,  to  make  a  series 
of  fierce  assaults  upon  Gladstone's  ministry.  Lord 
Castlemaine  was  by  nature  a  Tory,  but,  unlike 
most  Tories,  he  had  no  expectation  of  revolutions 
turning  backward,  and  fought  the  advancing  hosts 
of  the  great  Demos,  with  his  back  to  the  wall.  He 
might,  however,  be  classed  with  the  destructive 
rather  than  the  constructive  statesmen.  He  had 
never  held  office  and  professed  a  disdain  for  it. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  his  bitterness  of  tongue, 
his  brilliant  invective,  his  appalling  and  dangerous 
candour,  his  pitiless  logic,  made  him  more  feared  as 
an  ally  than  as  an  opponent.  He  was  still  slim,  if 
not  sinewy,  but  the  strenuous  life  had  left  its  mark 
upon  him.  In  his  youth  he  had  been  thought  to  re- 
semble the  young  hero,  his  head  looked  as  if  he  had 
picked  it  up  on  a  battle  field.  Fermor,  at  thirty-five, 


4       THE   MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

had  the  appearance  of  clean  living  and  the  reputa- 
tion of  something  else. 

It  was  Lord  Castlemaine's  habit  to  listen  with  de- 
light to  his  sister  Lady  Susan's  vapourings  and  to 
encourage  her  in  perpetual  scheming  for  things 
which  never  came  to  pass.  At  forty-five,  Lady 
Susan  had  married  Joshua  Battle,  a  small,  meek 
and  amazingly  rich  man,  from  Birmingham.  Lady 
Susan's  (juarterings  made  up  for  the  fact  that 
Joshua  Battle  had  begun  life  as  an  ironmonger  on  a 
large  scale,  and  his  money  atoned  for  his  having  five 
maiden  daughters,  when  he  married  Lady  Susan. 
It  became  the  dream  of  Lady  Susan,  who  was  a  good 
step-mother  after  her  lights,  to  marry  one  of  the 
Battle  girls  to  her  nephew,  Lord  Fermor.  She  had 
tried  him  with  Jane,  Eliza  and  Sarah  Battle,  but 
had  failed  signally  with  each.  There  were  two  others 
still  in  the  hands  of  governesses  and  masters,  and 
Lady  Susan,  undaunted  by  her  three  previous  de- 
feats, confidently  reckoned  that  either  Rebecca  or 
Amelia  would  be  the  future  Countess  of  Castlemaine. 

Meanwhile,  Lord  Fermor  showed  no  inclination 
to  marry  anybody,  and  as  Mrs.  Bellenden,  the  lady 
described  by  Lady  Susan  ais  the  "  good-looking, 
painted  Jezebel,"  was  already  provided  with  a 
husband,  there  could  be  no  question  of  his  marrying 
her,  for  the  present  at  least.  Fermor  must  marry 
money;  that  was  well  understood.  Castlemaine  was 
a  poor  earldom,  as  earldoms  go,  with  a  big  town 
house  and  two  great  country  places,  which  cost  a 


A    MODERN    ENGLISHMAN  5 

fortune  to  keep  up  and  consequently  were  allowed 
to  go  down.  King's  Lyndon,  the  finest  of  these 
places,  lay  in  one  of  the  beautiful  midland  counties 
of  England,  and  had  been  practically  closed  for 
ten  years.  The  repairs  and  refurnishings  would  have 
swamped  Lord  Castlemaine  completely,  and  so  it  had 
gone  untenanted,  except  for  an  occasional  month  or 
two  when  Lord  Castlemaine  or  Fermor  would  occupy 
three  or  four  rooms  in  a  corner  of  one  wing  of  the 
vast  house.  Lord  Castlemaine  was  an  open  and  con- 
fessed Londoner,  unashamed  and  unafraid.  He  was 
the  soul-brother  of  Macaulay  and  Dr.  Johnson  and 
those  men  to  whom  the  great  surging  city  thun- 
dered a  perpetual  message.  No  matter  how  much 
King's  Lyndon  and  Longstaffe  might  go  to  rack 
and  ruin,  Castlemaine  House  was  always  kept  up  to 
the  mark,  and  its  dinners  were  still  good  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  like  everything  else  Lord  Castlemaine 
possessed,  it  was  covered  with  mortgages,  to  which 
Fermor  had  calmly,  if  not  cheerfully,  agreed.  To- 
night there  was  no  dinner  on  at  Castlemaine  House ; 
Lord  Castlemaine  and  Fermor  were  both  dining  out 
and  Lady  Susan  had  stepped  in  for  her  daily  visi- 
tation to  her  brother  and  nephew.  Finding  that 
Fermor  did  not  pick  up  the  gage  of  battle  cast  at 
his  feet  by  the  mention  of  Mrs.  Bellenden's  name, 
Lady  Susan  proceeded  to  take  her  grievance  to  walk 
as  the  French  say. 

"The  Americans  simply  own  London  during  the 
season.    Everywhere  you  go  they  are  there — those 


6        THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

little  women  with  their  insignificant  features  and 
their  ridiculous  little  white  shoes,  and  their  heads 
held  up  in  the  most  impertinent  manner,  eyeing  their 
betters.  If  I  had  brought  up  Mr.  Battle's  daughters 
to  be  so  bold  in  their  air  and  carriage  I  should  con- 
sider that  I  had  been  most  deficient  in  my  duties  as 
a  step-mother." 

"  The  American  women  have  indeed  a  most  un- 
common carriage  of  the  head  and  a  quite  indescrib- 
able courage  in  their  eyes.  God  knows,  none  of  your 
girls  have  it,"  responded  Lord  Castlemaine. 

"  Look,"  continued  Lady  Susan,  pointing  an  in- 
dignant finger  at  a  strip  of  red  carpet  spread  from 
the  door  of  the  next  house  across  the  sidewalk,  "  I 
daresay  that  American  now,  Seymour,  and  his 
daughter  next  door,  are  expecting  royalty  this  very 
evening.  The  way  the  King  runs  about  to  those 
American  houses  is  simply  disgraceful." 

That  no  such  honour  was  intended  for  the  Ameri- 
can neighbours,  was  now  made  plain  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  handsome  empty  brougham  at  the  door. 
Lord  Fermor,  who  had  an  eye  for  a  horse,  leaned 
over  the  balcony  with  its  masses  of  pale  pink  hy- 
drangeas, and  noticed  the  clean-limbed,  perfectly 
matched  chestnuts,  who  stood  motionless  like  bronze 
horses  before  the  strip  of  red  carpet. 

"Remarkably  correct,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine, 
his  eye  glancing  over  the  whole  equipage. 

At  that  moment  the  door  of  the  great  mansion 
opened  and  a  lady  appeared  and  walked  down  the 


A    MODERN    ENGLISHMAN  7 

red  carpet  to  the  carriage,  where  the  footman 
held  the  door  open.  She  was  of  medium  height, 
but  very  slender  with  a  figure  of  a  girl  of  twenty 
moulded  into  an  exquisitely  fitting  white  bodice.  A 
filmy  billowy  train  like  a  cloud  floated  behind  her, 
and  from  her  skirts  peeped,  not  the  small  white  shoes, 
abhorred  by  Lady  Battle,  but  an  aggravation  of  the 
offence — little  shoes  of  cloth  of  silver,  embroidered 
in  pearls.  The  evening  was  warm  and  around  her 
shoulders  was  only  a  thin  white  scarf.  The  grace  of 
movement,  the  slight  figure,  the  gentle  haughtiness 
of  the  upraised,  bare,  dark  head,  fixed  the  attention 
of  Fermor.  He  had  the  consciousness  of  having  be- 
fore seen  that  face  with  all  its  elusive  charm,  but  he 
could  not  recall  when  or  where. 

When  the  lady  reached  the  carriage  door,  she 
turned  and  waved  her  hand  to  an  elderly  gentle- 
man standing  on  the  balcony  of  the  house.  Her  face 
was  clearly  visible.  It  was  finely  finished  with  deli- 
cate eyebrows,  dark  eyelashes  over  darker  eyes  and 
thin  red  lips.  She  was  not  a  girl — so  much  was 
plain — although  there  was  about  her  the  char- 
acteristic girlishness  of  the  American  type.  Her 
age  hovered  somewhere  about  thirty;  she  had 
reached  a  period  that  was  like  the  veiled  brilliance 
of  a  summer  noon,  when  it  is  neither  morning  nor 
evening,  but  which  has  the  glow  of  the  morning  and 
the  melancholy  sweetness  of  the  evening.  It  was  dif- 
ficult to  say  whether  she  was  beautiful  or  not,  but 
she  radiated  charm.  So  much  was  this  the  case  that 


8       THE   MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Lady  Susan  was  beginning  another  diatribe  against 
Americans,  when  it  was  cut  short  by  the  arrival  of 
Lord  Castlemaine's  brougham,  to  take  him  to  din- 
ner at  the  Prime  Minister's. 

The  elderly  gentleman  still  lingered  in  full  view  on 
the  balcony  of  the  next  house.  He  was  as  distinc- 
tively an  American  as  Lord  Castlemaine  and  Fer- 
mor  were  Englishmen.  His  air,  grave  and  suave,  his 
small  and  slightly  stooping  figure  were  not  sug- 
gestive of  the  American  plutocrat,  but  rather  of  a 
man  who  had  suffered  some  hard  blows  from  the 
iron  hand  of  destiny. 

Fermor  rose  and  went  down  the  broad  imposing 
stairs  with  Lord  Castlemaine. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  you  will  give  me  a  lift  as 
far  as  Chester  Street,  where  I  am  dining.  We  can 
save  the  estate  one  cab  fare  anyhow." 

Once  inside  the  brougham  Lord  Castlemaine, 
turning  full  on  Fermor,  said  suddenly : 

"  The  estate  is  in  rather  better  case  to-day  than 
it  was  last  week.  I  saw  Stratton  this  morning  and 
he  says  that  the  whole  matter  of  King's  Lyndon 
was  settled  yesterday  by  Seymour,  the  American, 
in  half  an  hour.  He  went  down,  looked  over  the 
place,  came  back,  and  offers  to  take  it  on  a  seven- 
years'  lease  with  the  privilege  of  buying  within  six 
months,  paying  the  whole  sixty  thousand  pounds  in 
cash.  That  will  clean  Longstaffe  and  the  town 
house  and  leave  a  balance,  and  by  the  blessing  of 
God  I  shall  spend  next  season  at  Monte  Carlo,  like 


A   MODERN    ENGLISHMAN  9 

a  gentleman,  which  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  for 
the  past  five  years.  I  have  no  sentiment  about 
King's  Lyndon  or  any  other  place,  thank  God." 

Fermor  remained  silent,  his  sombre  grey  eyes 
fixed  before  him.  He  had  a  sentiment  about  King's 
Lyndon.  There  he  was  born,  and  there  were  clus- 
tered the  few  faint  recollections  of  his  mother,  a 
pale,  silent,  devoted  creature,  who  had  faded  out  of 
life  as  quietly  as  she  had  passed  through  it.  He 
had  been  a  boy  of  twenty-three  in  the  Guards  when 
he  had  agreed  to  join  in  cutting  the  entail.  Now 
twelve  years  afterward,  when  he  knew  what  he  was 
doing,  he  was  called  upon  to  take  the  consequences. 
The  sale  of  the  place  would  very  much  diminish  his 
interest  in  the  county,  for  Fermor  had  inherited  his 
father's  passion  for  public  life.  He  had  always 
meant  to  make  it  his  career,  but  many  things,  in- 
cluding lack  of  money  and  Flora  Bellenden,  had  pre- 
vented. Of  late,  however,  a  silent  change,  a  wordless 
revolution,  had  been  going  on  within  him.  Perhaps 
it  was  because  Mrs.  Bellenden  had  reached  the  stage 
when  she  dyed  her  hair  and  wrote  him  incessant  and 
insistent  notes — a  phase  which  is  inevitable  in  the 
Flora  Bellendens  of  this  world. 

According  to  logic  and  general  usage  Fermor 
should  have  hated  his  father,  but  he  did  not.  In 
many  respects  they  were  alike,  with  equal  gifts. 
Fermor  was  the  better  balanced  of  the  two,  and 
he  had  been  born  in  a  better  age — for  the  mid- Vic- 
torian age  was  only  a  trifling  improvement,  in  mor- 


10      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

als  and  manners,  on  the  early  Victorian  period  which 
inherited  a  frightful  legacy  of  corruption  from  the 
Georgian  era. 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  a  few  intermittent  im- 
pulses of  generosity  and  affection ;  Fermor  had  a 
heart.  One  of  these  rare  impulses  of  generosity 
seized  upon  Lord  Castlemaine.  He  glanced  at  Fer- 
mor and  observed  that  he  was  no  longer  young; 
there  were  fine  lines  around  his  eyes  and  his  hair 
was  growing  thin  on  the  temples.  So  far  he  had 
been  balked  of  the  wish  of  his  heart,  to  enter  Par- 
liament, and  that  too  for  want  of  money. 

"  I  said  there  would  be  a  balance  left  over  if  the 
place  is  sold,  as  Stratton  considers  certain,  and  I 
think  it  only  fair  that  you  should  have  a  reasonable 
sum  for  your  expenses  if  you  wish  to  stand  for  the 
House.  From  what  the  doctors  say  about  old 
Whitby  there  will  be  a  vacancy  pretty  soon  in  the 
division." 

Fermor,  surprised  and  touched,  turned  to  Lord 
Castlemaine  and  said: 

"Thank  you." 

It  was  not  much,  after  all ;  but  it  was  more  than 
he  expected.  It  moved  both  of  them  so  much  that, 
like  true-born  Britons,  they  scurried  away  from  the 
subject  by  mutual  consent. 

"  How  do  you  suppose  the  story  leaked  out  about 
the  lease  of  King's  Lyndon  ?  "  asked  Fermor. 

''  Through  a  woman,  of  course.  They  have  a  devil- 
ish ingenuity  for  finding  out  and  betraying  secrets. 


A    MODERN    ENGLISHMAN  11 

That  is  to  say,  all  the  sex  except  your  Aunt  Susan. 
Her  mind  leaks  like  a  sieve,  but  she  couldn't  find  out 
anything  to  save  her  life.  She  has  not  yet  discov- 
ered that  none  of  Joshua  Battle's  daughters  will 
ever  become  Countess  of  Castlemaine.  Nevertheless, 
my  boy,  you  have  got  to  marry  money." 

Fermor  smiled  grimly  at  this,  but  made  np  reply. 

"  But  not  an  American,"  continued  Lord  Castle- 
maine energetically.  "  With  that  ridiculous  Ameri- 
can daughter-worship,  the  American  father  keeps 
a  tight  rein  on  his  daughter's  money  and  expects 
everything  he  gives  her  to  be  used  for  her  sole  bene- 
fit." 

"  Perhaps  Birmingham  would  be  better,  after  all," 
answered  Fermor,  laughing. 

And  soon  they  had  reached  Chester  Street,  the 
brougham  pulled  up  and  Lord  Fermor  got  out. 
Lord  Castlemaine  gave  no  indication  that  he  knew 
Fermor  was  going  to  Mrs.  Bellenden's  house  to  din- 
ner. He  had  large  tolerance  in  such  matters,  re- 
quiring much  indulgence  himself,  but,  like  all  men  of 
his  kind,  although  he  condoned  the  lapses  of  his  fel- 
lowman  toward  women,  he  never  thought  the  par- 
ticular woman  in  the  game  worth  the  candle. 


THERE  was  a  big  dinner  on  at  the  Prime  Minister's, 
and  when  Lord  Castlemaine  entered  the  first  of  the 
three  great  drawing-rooms  it  seemed  quite  full  of  per- 
sons. He  was  among  the  last  arrivals  and  the 
hostess  immediately  began  apportioning  the  ladies 
to  the  gentlemen  who  were  to  take  them  down  to  din- 
ner. Lord  Castlemaine,  on  whom  was  bestowed  a 
dowager  duchess,  caught  the  sound  of  a  name  be- 
hind him,  Madame  Fontarini,  whom  Marsac,  one  of 
the  secretaries  of  the  French  Embassy,  was  invited 
to  hand  down.  Madame  Fontarini  proved  to  be 
the  lady  of  the  white  gown  and  silver  shoes. 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  a  photographic  mind,  and 
while  listening  with  a  grin  to  the  duchess's  artless 
prattle  as  they  moved  down  the  splendid  staircase, 
he  was  rapidly  assembling  enough  facts  to  identify 
Madame  Fontarini.  It  was  one  of  the  best  names 
in  Roman  society,  belonging  to  the  "  Black  "  sec- 
tion. There  was  a  Cardinal  Fontarini  who  had  a 
nephew,  Pietro,  a  scamp  of  the  first  water,  and  said 
to  be  the  handsomest  young  man  in  Rome.  Ten  or 
twelve  years  before  this  Pietro  married  a  young 
American  girl  with  a  great  fortune.  The  posses- 
sion of  money  had  made  Pietro  Fontarini  a  worse 

19 


THEODORA  Id 

man  than  ever  before,  and  after  a  stormy  career,  of 
a  few  years,  which  narrowly  verged  on  crime,  he 
had  died  of  his  excesses.  Lord  Castlemaine  never 
remembered  to  have  heard  the  name  of  Fontarini's 
wife  mentioned  since  her  husband's  death,  but  he 
thought  the  chances  were  that  this  Madame  Fonta- 
rini  was  the  lady  in  question.  He  was  rather  pleased 
when  he  found  his  left-hand  neighbour  at  the  long 
and  glittering  table  to  be  Madame  Fontarini. 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  a  connoisseur  in  feminine 
beauty,  as  well  as  in  horses,  although  no  woman 
could  acquire  an  ascendency  over  him  any  more 
than  could  the  finest  steed  of  Araby.  One  compre- 
hensive glance  at  Madame  Fontarini  showed  that 
she  could  stand  the  closest  inspection.  If  the  di- 
rector of  the  Grand  Opera  at  Paris  had  studied 
how  to  show  her  off  to  the  greatest  advantage  he 
could  not  have  chosen  better.  All  the  women  pres- 
ent were  of  the  large  high-coloured  type,  dressed 
chiefly  in  heavy  satins  and  velvets,  and  blazing  with 
jewels  which  added  splendour  to  the  mise  en  scene 
of  the  noble  apartment,  the  magnificent  dinner- 
table  radiant  with  lights  and  flowers  and  the  serv- 
ants in  gorgeous  liveries  of  maroon  and  gold. 
Madame  Fontarini  was  by  no  means  the  handsomest 
woman  present,  but  unquestionably  the  most  dis- 
tinguished in  appearance.  With  her  dark  hair,  white 
skin,  and  delicately  cut  features  she  looked  like  a 
cameo  in  an  exhibition  of  terra-cotta  busts.  Her 
filmy  white  gown,  with  its  billows  of  lace,  made  the 


14,      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

other  women  look  as  if  they  were  upholstered.  Noth- 
ing sparkled  upon  her  gown  or  in  her  hair,  but 
around  her  slender  throat  was  an  antique  pearl 
necklace.  This  absence  of  jewels  gave  the  effect  of 
disdaining  rivalry  and  calmly  assuming  superiority. 
Her  dark  hair,  in  which  there  were  a  few  silver 
threads,  was  dressed  as  simply  as  a  wood  nymph's, 
whose  only  mirror  is  the  fountain  of  the  forest.  The 
hair  of  the  other  women  was  dressed  most  elaborately 
and  gave  Lord  Castlemaine  the  impression  that  they 
had  bought  their  heads  out  of  a  hairdresser's  win- 
dow. 

Before  he  had  finished  his  soup  he  began  a  con- 
versation with  Madame  Fontarini.  Circumstances 
favoured  him,  for  the  duchess  was  frankly  afraid  of 
him  and  openly  preferred  the  ambassador  on  the 
other  side. 

"I  think  we  are  neighbours,"  said  Lord  Castle- 
maine. 

"  Yes,"  responded  Madame  Fontarini,  turning 
upon  him  her  large,  clear,  dark  gaze,  "  I  have 
known  you  by  sight  ever  since  we  took  our  London 
house,"  then  she  added,  smiling,  "  and  also  by  name. 
You  are  Lord  Castlemaine." 

"And  you  are  Madame  Fontarini,"  said  Lord 
Castlemaine.  "  I  knew  a  cardinal  of  that  name  while 
in  Rome  years  ago." 

"  He  was  my  husband's  uncle,"  replied  Madame 
Fontarini.  She  spoke  quietly  enough,  but  there  was 
an  expression  upon  her  mobile  face  and  a  note  in 


THEODORA  15 

her  voice  which  gave  warning  that  the  subject  was 
not  to  be  pursued. 

"  I  always  liked  the  Romans,  but  I  own  I  never 
could  understand  them,"  continued  Lord  Castle- 
maine,  shying  away  from  the  personal  note. 

"  No  one  can,  except  a  Roman,"  answered  Ma- 
dame Fontarini  quietly.  "  I  spent  six  years  of  my 
married  life  in  Italy.  I  knew  the  Italians  little 
in  the  beginning;  I  knew  them  still  less  in  the 
end." 

"  The  modern  Italians,  you  mean.  We  all 
know  the  old  fellows  who  harangued  in  the  Capitol, 
and  sought  office  worse  than  a  Liberal  ironmonger 
with  a  pot  of  money."  Lord  Castlemaine  had  in 
mind  his  brother-in-law,  Joshua  Battle,  who  had 
visions  of  being  a  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  or  possibly 
Postmaster-general  and  who  was  egged  on  by  Lady 
Susan.  "  And  the  generals  who  took  good  care  that 
their  campaigns  in  Gaul  and  Africa  should  be  known 
to  the  Senators." 

"  And  the  Romans  of  the  Middle  Ages,"  said  Ma- 
dame Fontarini.  "  I  think  they  had  not  learned  so 
much  of  artifice  as  the  Italians  of  to-day." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  lady,  yes  they  had.  Machiavelli 
says,  you  know,  that  the  French  always  beat  the 
Italians  in  war  and  then  the  Italians  beat  the 
French  in  diplomacy." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  am  an  American  that  I 
understand  Romans  so  little,  nor  any  of  the  Italians, 
for  that  matter,"  was  Madame  Fontarini's  response. 


16     THE   MARRIAGE    OF   THEODORA 

'*  You  know  they  are  very  diverse,  just  as  the  French- 
men of  the  North  differ  from  the  Frenchmen  of  the 
South,  and  the  Parisian  is  a  type  by  himself." 

"  I  see  you  know  Europe  well.  You  are  among  the 
Americans  who  pay  us  the  compliment  of  preferring 
to  live  among  us." 

"  Pray  acquit  me  of  the  bad  taste  of  preferring 
any  other  country  to  my  own,"  replied  Madame 
Fontarini,  softly  smiling,  but  decisive.  "  My  father's 
affairs  have  made  it  necessary  for  many  years  past 
that  he  should  live  abroad.  We  are  established  in 
England  for  the  rest  of  our  lives,  as  far  as  we  can 
now  see,  and  we  hope  and  expect  to  like  it,  but  we 
do  not  belong  to  the  class  of  voluntarily  expatriated 
Americans.  It  is  my  father's  particular  quarrel 
with  Fate  that  he  cannot  live  in  America,  but  we 
have  determined  to  make  the  best  of  our  enforced 
residence  in  England." 

Lord  Castlemaine  opened  his  eyes  at  this.  He 
never  remembered  hearing  the  same  sentiments  from 
any  of  the  numerous  Americans  who  had  great  town 
and  country  houses  in  England.  Madame  Fonta- 
rini's  air  of  gentle  courtesy  robbed  the  words  of 
anything  like  impertinence,  but  it  tickled  Lord 
Castlemaine  that  she  should  speak  of  a  residence 
in  England  as  a  sacrifice  which  she  was  prepared  to 
make  gracefully. 

Then  her  neighbour,  Marsac,  claimed  her  atten- 
tion. He  was  a  handsome,  vivacious  Frenchman, 
who  had  made  his  way  by  wit  and  good  sense  from 


THEODORA  17 

the  ranks  of  working  journalists  in  Paris,  to  be 
secretary  of  the  Embassy  at  London.  He  was 
evidently  charmed  with  Madame  Fontarini,  and  her 
smiles  and  soft  laughter  showed  that  she  was  not 
insensible  to  his  brilliant  attractions.  It  was  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  before  Lord  Castlemaine  had  an  op- 
portunity to  strike  into  the  conversation  again. 
Marsac  and  Madame  Fontarini  were  discussing 
country  life  in  England,  and  Madame  Fontarini 
turned  to  Lord  Castlemaine. 

"  It  is  all  changed,"  he  said ;  "  country  life  in 
England  was  the  finest  thing  in  the  world  when  the 
late  Queen  was  snubbing  Sir  Robert  Peel,  and  peo- 
ple waited  for  good  weather  to  cross  the  Channel. 
Then  the  great  houses  were  occupied  all  the  year 
round,  except  for  two  months  during  the  season. 
Now  the  more  great  houses  there  are  in  a  given 
locality  the  worse  off  it  is  for  society.  Half  the  peo- 
ple are  off  yachting,  or  on  the  Continent,  or  in 
[America  or  South  Africa.  The  other  half  depend 
upon  London  to  furnish  them  with  guests  for  week- 
end parties.  For  my  part  I  fly  in  the  face  of  all 
tradition  and  say  London  is  the  place,  after  all." 

"  Yes,"  put  in  Marsac,  "  London  is  England,  but 
all  of  you  have  not  yet  waked  up  to  the  fact." 

"  I  have,"  replied  Lord  Castlemaine,  laughing. 
"  London  is  the  only  place  in  England  where  men 
are  found  in  appreciable  numbers." 

"  I  have  noticed  no  lack  of  them,"  said  Madame 
Fontarini. 


48      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  Of  course  not,"  answered  Lord  Castlemaine  gal- 
lantly, "  *  Where  the  bee  sucks,'  etc.,  but  I  predict 
you  will  like  the  town  better  than  the  country  in 
the  end." 

"  Pray,"  said  Marsac,  "  do  not  disparage  country 
life  to  Madame  Fontarini,  who  has  been  telling 
me  of  the  pleasure  she  expects  in  the  country  house 
which  her  father,  Mr.  Seymour,  has  leased.  I  was 
just  begging  her  for  an  invitation  to  visit  her  as 
soon  as  she  is  established  as  chatelaine." 

Madame  Fontarini  remained  silent ;  the  allusion 
was  somewhat  awkward,  as  she  knew  Lord  Castle- 
maine to  be  the  owner  of  King's  Lyndon,  but  that 
unabashed  person  responded  at  once : 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Seymour  has  done  me  the  favour  to 
lease  a  place  of  mine,  King's  Lyndon.  I  wish  him 
joy  of  it,"  he  added,  smiling  to  Madame  Fontarini, 
"  and  in  particular,  I  don't  wish,  in  case  the  place 
is  given  up,  that  it  shall  be  restored  to  me  in  exactly 
the  condition  in  which  I  let  him  have  it." 

The  duchess  then  claimed  Lord  Castlemaine's  at- 
tention, desiring!  to  know  what  kind!  of  soil  he 
thought  best  adapted  to  developing  the  colour  of  hy- 
drangeas. Lord  Castlemaine,  who  did  not  know  a 
hydrangea  from  a  turnip,  gravely  advanced  an 
opinion  that  a  light  soil  heavily  imbued  with  phos- 
phates would  cause  a  hydrangea  to  grow  blue.  He 
talked  so  learnedly  on  the  subject  that  the  duchess, 
as  usual,  suspected  him  to  be  laughing  in  has  sleeve, 
a  suspicion  which  became  a  conviction  when  Lord 


THEODORA  19 

Castlemaine  assured  her  of  his  passion  for  attending" 
flower  shows. 

In  the  midst  of  it,  Lord  Castlemaine  caught  a 
ripple  of  laughter  from  Madame  Fontarini. 
Marsac  was  telling  her  some  of  his  escapades  in 
Paris,  when  he  and  his  friend,  Fontaine,  played  the 
famous  trick  of  an  imaginary  uncle  Maurice,  who 
turned  out  to  be  a  real  person.  Lord  Castlemaine 
glanced  at  Madame  Fontarini,  whose  style  was  dis- 
tinctively il  penseroso.  Her  eyes  were  sparkling, 
and  an  elusive  dimple  showed  in  her  pale  cheek. 
She  was  like  a  fountain  in  the  heart  of  the  for- 
est,  on  which  the  sunshine  suddenly  strikes,  turning 
its  shadowed  beauty  into  a  glory  of  laughing  bright- 
ness. Lord  Castlemaine  was  surprised  at  himself  for 
turning  so  frequently  toward  her.  He  often  found 
American  women  amusing,  but  not  always  interest- 
ing in  the  highest  degree,  and  she  was  slightly  dif- 
ferent from  any  American  woman  that  he  had 
so  far  met.  He  wondered  if  she  had  the  charac- 
teristic American  humour,  and  presently,  satisfied 
himself  that  she  had. 

Marsac,  who  was  a  brilliant  talker,  continued 
to  absorb  so  much  of  Madame  Fontarini's  attention 
that  Lord  Castlemaine,  at  sixty-five  years  of  age, 
felt  himself  chagrined  for  the  first  time  in  forty 
years  that  another  man  had  beaten  him  out  in  the 
good  graces  of  a  charming  woman  at  dinner. 

Meanwhile,  Fermor's  adventures  were  quite  dif- 
ferent from  Lord  Castlemaine's.  He  had  arrived 


20      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

in  Chester  Street  ten  minutes  in  advance  of  the 
time,  and  strolled  down  a  side  street  where  he  could 
not  be  seen  from  Mrs.  Bellenden's  window.  He  had 
experienced  a  great  deal  of  that  unauthorised  hen- 
pecking  which  women  like  Mrs.  Bellenden  fall  into 
invariably.  She  would  be  certain,  if  she  saw  him,  to 
reproach  him  bitterly  for  neglecting  the  opportu- 
nity of  a  ten-minute  tete-a-tete  with  her,  as  well  as 
for  other  neglected  opportunities.  So  Fermor  de- 
termined that  she  should  not  see  him,  if  he  could 
help  it.  As  he  walked  around  the  square,  he  saw  in 
advance  of  him,  another  man,  like  himself  marking 
time  before  dinner.  It  was  Ashburton,  his  best,  and, 
Fermor  thought  sometimes,  his  only  friend.  Ashbur- 
ton had  exchanged  into  a  line  regiment,  alleging 
that  he  could  not  afford  the  Guards,  as  his  mother 
and  sisters  had  but  a  scanty  income.  Fermor  reck- 
oned this  conduct  on  Ashburton's  part  to  be  one  of 
heroic  virtue  and  ever  afterward  felt  himself  hon- 
oured by  Ashburton's  friendship.  During  a  long 
service  in  India,  Ashburton  had  kept  up  an  inter- 
mittent correspondence  with  Fermor.  Then  suddenly 
Ashburton  inherited  a  considerable  fortune.  His 
mother  was  dead,  his  sisters  married,  and  he  resigned 
from  the  army.  He  kept  modest  chambers  in  Lon- 
don, frequented  the  "Rag,"  and  did  nothing  so  far 
as  Fermor  knew  in  the  way  of  spending  his  money. 

Flora  Bellenden  had  contrived  to  meet  Ashburton 
by  a  cleverly  arranged  accident,  but  in  spite  of  her 
most  determined  efforts  Ashburton  declined  to  call 


THEODORA  21 

in  Chester  Street.  He  went  out  occasionally  in  soci- 
ety, a  silent,  plain  man,  who  bestowed  his  atten- 
tion chiefly  on  elderly  dowagers  and  neglected  spin- 
sters. Fermor  often  wondered  what  Ashburton  did 
with  his  time,  his  money,  and  himself.  As  the  two 
men  caught  sight  of  each  other  at  the  same  moment, 
Ashburton  pulled  out  his  watch. 

"  Twenty-two  minutes  past,"  he  said ;  "  we  have 
eight  minutes  more." 

"  I  can  stand  the  delay,"  said  Fermor. 

He  was  in  a  very  bad  humour  and  not  averse  to 
showing  it.  Ashburton  grinned.  He  could  put  two 
and  two  together,  and  as  in  his  heart  he  loved  Fer- 
mor, he  was  glad  to  observe  that  Mrs.  Bellenden  was 
growing  to  be  an  almost  intolerable  bore  to  him. 
They  talked  a  moment  or  two,  walking  together, 
then  they  came  to  a  wall  with  an  iron  gate  in  it. 
Through  the  iron  bars  they  could  see  a  small  garden, 
and  the  open  glass  doors  revealed  a  large,  plain 
room  with  two  or  three  men  in  clerical  dress  seated 
about  it  reading  or  writing. 

"  Look,"  said  Ashburton  to  Fermor,  "  those  are 
the  men  who  live,  after  all.  They  are  the  priests  of 
a  Catholic  parish  around  here.  It  is  a  poor  parish, 
I  believe,  the  parishioners  being  generally  servants 
and  small  shopkeepers.  These  men  rise  at  five 
o'clock,  dine  at  one,  and  the  day's  work  is  over  for 
them  at  seven.  I  know  them  all.  That  short,  grey- 
haired  one  was  a  chaplain  in  my  regiment  in  India. 
He  broke  down  and  came  home,  and  he  now  thinks  he 


22      THE    MARRIAGE    OE    THEODORA 

is  in  Paradise,  with  a  parish  of  his  own  and  a  roof 
over  his  head  and  a  hundred  pounds  a  year.  He 
is  the  man  I  envy  and  would  wish  to  imitate." 

Fermor  was  surprised.  There  were  times  when 
even  the  most  reserved  of  men  feel  the  need  of  con- 
fidence, and  that  hour  seemed  to  have  come  for 
Ashburton.  It  was  as  if  he  were  looking  for  some- 
one to  whom  he  should  open  his  heart  when  this 
brief,  accidental  meeting  with  Fermor  occurred ;  and 
with  Fermor  it  was  the  same.  He,  too,  had  one  of 
those  rare  moments  of  expansion,  but  there  was  now 
no  time  for  confidences. 

"Will  you  be  going  to  the  reception  at  Peter- 
sham House  to-night  ?  "  Ashburton  asked  Fermor. 

"  Yes,  if  you  are  there  we  can  walk  back  together. 
Like  you,  I  fancy  the  quiet  streets  at  night." 

Then  Fermor  turned  away  and  in  three  minutes 
more  was  bowing  over  Mrs.  Bellenden's  hand  in  her 
drawing-room. 

She  was  very  tall  and  fair  and  had  been  the 
beauty  of  her  season,  and  might  have  been  a  beauty 
still  but  for  the  obvious  artificiality  of  her  gold-col- 
oured hair,  her  pencilled  eyebrows  and  the  touch 
of  rouge  upon  her  cheeks;  all  of  which  are  things 
that  cannot  be  concealed.  Her  manner  was  drama- 
tic, just  as  her  appearance  was  spectacular,  and  she 
was  slightly  in  advance  of  the  age  in  every  respect. 
She  motored,  shot,  rode,  did  everything  with  an  in- 
tensity which  befitted  her  role  of  a  beautiful,  des- 
perate and  neglected  wife.  Bellenden,  a  handsome, 


fHEODORA  23 

stupid  country  gentleman  of  modest  fortune,  who 
was  completely  dislocated  by  being  transplanted  to 
London,  loved  his  wife,  shut  his  eyes  to  her  conduct, 
obeyed  her  implicitly  and  was  mortally  afraid  of  her. 
To  Fermor,  Mrs.  Bellenden  assumed  to  have  lived  a 
life  of  domestic  bliss  with  Bellenden  until  Fermor 
crossed  her  orbit.  As  a  matter  of  fact  Fermor  was 
the  fourth  or  fifth  man  whom  Flora  Bellenden  had 
beguiled.  The  others  had  broken  away  from  her  in 
time.  She  held  on  tenaciously  to  Fermor,  her  first 
youth  being  past,  and  he,  being  more  of  a  gentle- 
man at  heart  than  the  other  men,  had  refrained  from 
throwing  her  off.  She  bitterly  resented  having  been 
married  to  Bellenden  in  her  first  season,  believing 
that  she  could  have  married  a  duke  if  only  she  had 
been  properly  jockeyed. 

In  default  of  that  she  meant  to  be,  if  possible, 
the  next  Countess  of  Castlemaine.  Not  that  Fer- 
mor had  ever  said  so  much.  He  was  not  wholly 
bad,  nor  wholly  good,  but  he  respected  his  name 
and  he  respected  also  a  faint  shadowy  memory  of 
his  mother.  There  was  a  time  in  the  beginning 
when  Flora  Bellenden's  beauty  bewitched  him  and 
when  he  believed  the  stories  she  told  him  with  dra- 
matic force  of  the  injuries  she  suffered  at  Bellenden's 
hands.  These  were  long  since  exploded  and  Fermor 
felt  a  kind  of  grotesque  sympathy  with  the  un- 
lucky Tom  Bellenden. 

Nothing  is  more  difficult  than  for  a  man,  with  a 
show  of  decency,  to  rid  himself  of  a  woman  like 


24      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Flora  Bellenden.  It  was  in  vain  that  Fermor 
showed  her  the  door;  she  would  not  go  out.  Act- 
ually, Flora  Bellenden  was  as  much  in  love  with 
Fermor  as  a  woman  of  her  kind  can  be  in  love  with 
a  man.  She  admired  his  long,  graceful  body,  his 
agreeable  voice,  the  little  touch  of  coolness  about 
him  in  all  he  said  and  did.  He  interested  her  and 
piqued  her;  and  infuriated  her,  and  without  him 
she  was  bored.  Above  all,  he  could  make  her  some 
day  Countess  of  Castlemaine,  provided  a  divorce 
could  be  arranged  between  Tom  Bellenden  and  her- 
self. But  on  this  point  Fermor  maintained  a  grim 
silence.  He  was  not  credited  with  many  scruples, 
but  he  had  a  scruple,  backed  by  an  adamantine  prej- 
udice, against  marrying  a  divorced  woman. 

For  more  than  two  years  past  a  deep  and  silent 
resentment  had  been  steadily  growing  in  his  mind 
against  Mrs.  Bellenden.  The  sophistries  were  melt- 
ing away  and  he  saw  her  as  she  was.  But  that  did 
not  make  it  any  easier  for  him  to  refuse  her  invita- 
tions, avoid  her,  and,  in  short,  to  be  rid  of  her.  He 
had  reached  that  point  when  any  strong  influence 
brought  to  bear  upon  him  would  have  made  him 
break  with  Flora  Bellenden.  So  far  there  had  been 
no  such  influence,  except  his  own  disillusionment. 
That  was  now  complete. 

Another  fact  was  fixed.  He  hated  divorces  and 
the  divorced.  For  this,  he  could  give  no  particular 
explanation  any  more  than  he  could  for  the  unvary- 
ing force  of  gravitation.  But  it  had  grown  and  de- 


THEODORA  25 

veloped  in  him,  first  from  the  determination  not  to 
make  Flora  Bellenden  his  wife  until  he  reached  the 
point  of  resolving  never  to  marry  a  divorced  woman. 

As  he  took  his  hostess  down  to  dinner,  followed  by 
half  a  dozen  other  couples,  and  watched  her  preside 
at  her  own  table,  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  a 
woman  with  less  personal  dignity.  The  dinner  was 
bad,  and  Mrs.  Bellenden  lost  her  temper  with  the 
soup  and  did  not  recover  it  until  the  dessert  ap- 
peared. Poor  Tom  Bellenden,  patient  and  shame- 
faced, bore  it  all  with  a  kind  of  stupid  dignity. 

When  dinner  was  over  Fermor  reckoned  upon  slip- 
ping out  and  getting  off  to  Petersham  House, 
leaving  an  excuse  for  his  hostess.  The  Fates,  how- 
ever, would  not  have  it  so.  Mrs.  Bellenden  was  go- 
ing to  Petersham  House  too,  and  having  intimated 
so  much,  her  guests  left  early  and  she  appeared  in 
the  smoking-room,  where  Fermor  and  Bellenden  sat 
smoking.  There  was  an  assumption  of  friendship 
between  the  two  men  to  which  honest,  stupid  Tom 
Bellenden  hung  on  tenaciously. 

"Will  you  be  going  to  Petersham  House?"  Mrs. 
Bellenden  asked  of  Fermor.  "Of  course  it  will  be 
a  bore  to  Tom  and  he  will  be  glad  enough  if  you  can 
take  me  in  a  hansom." 

"  Oh,  no,  it  won't  be  a  bore,"  said  Bellenden  sud- 
denly, "  I'll  take  you,  Flora." 

"  And  drag  me  home  within  half  an  hour." 

"  I  will  stay  as  long  as  you  like." 

Mrs.  Bellenden  glanced  from  her  husband  to  Fer- 


26      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

mor  and  back,  with  vexation  in  her  heart.  Fermor's 
look  was  unmistakably  one  of  relief. 

"  Then  I  won't  detain  you,"  he  said,  rising.  "  I 
have  got  to  look  in  for  half  an  hour  and  I  shall  see 
you  there.  Meanwhile,  au  revoir." 

Once  out  in  the  street  Fermor  swore  at  himself 
with  heart  and  soul.  The  time  had  come  when  he 
could  stand  no  more  of  Flora  Bellenden.  She  bored 
him,  she  annoyed  him,  she  humiliated  him.  He  hud 
been  to  blame  too,  but,  looking  the  matter  in  the 
face,  he  saw  that  interest  and  a  sordid  ambition 
•were  at  the  bottom  of  all  that  Flora  Bellenden 
professed  for  him.  He  had  been  as  lavish  of  money 
to  her  as  he  could ;  indeed,  there  was  a  kind  of  virtue 
in  the  way  he  had  denied  himself,  in  order  that  this 
harpy  of  a  woman  could  not  at  least  call  him  mean. 
She  had  wrested  from  him  more  than  money — she 
had  contaminated  his  life,  balked  his  honest  ambi- 
tions and  made  him,  at  thirty-five,  a  mere  pawn 
upon  the  chess-board.  But  it  should  be  so  no  longer. 
These  thoughts  were  bitter,  but  in  them  was  a  kind 
of  elation  which  comes  from  a  strong  purpose  reso- 
lutely embraced.  Henceforth,  he  was  a  free  man. 
He  would  go  into  public  life,  he  would  take  up  the 
responsibilities  of  his  position,  and  he  would  live 
uprightly. 


CHAPTER   III 

REGENERATION 

FERMOR'S  head  was  full  of  these  thoughts  when  he 
came  to  the  door  of  Petersham  House.  It  was  splen- 
didly illuminated  and  the  great  staircase  was 
blocked  with  half  London  in  gala  dress.  In  the 
midst  of  the  crowd,  the  lights,  the  gorgeousness,  the 
thought  that  he  had  broken  his  chains  was  still  in 
Fermor's  mind,  and  gave  a  new  animation  to  his 
somewhat  cold  and  impassive  face.  He  reached  his 
hostess,  paid  her  the  compliments  of  the  evening,  and 
then  made  his  way  through  the  crowded  rooms, 
speaking  to  acquaintances  right  and  left.  He  no- 
ticed how  blooming  many  of  the  girls  looked  with 
that  rose-like  English  freshness;  he  had  enough  of 
painted  women.  He  experienced  a  strange,  new  feel- 
ing almost  like  happiness.  The  people  about  him, 
who  in  general  had  no  interest  for  him,  suddenly 
grew  interesting.  He  saw,  or  thought  he  saw,  in 
them,  minds  at  ease,  energies  well  directed,  good 
relations  between  man  and  man;  between  man  and 
woman.  The  sense  of  freedom  became  a  dumb  ex- 
hilaration. He  was  self-contained,  but  not  cold, 
and,  like  rno«t  human  beings  who  can  think,  he  could 
also  feel. 

Mrs.  Bellenden,  he  knew,  had  arrived,  and  in  com- 
87 


28      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

mon  decency  he  must  speak  to  her  sometime  dur- 
ing the  evening.  An  hour  passed,  however,  be- 
fore he  began  to  look  for  her.  Then  he  caught 
sight  of  her  tall  figure  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
three  superb  drawing-rooms.  He  felt  no  unwill- 
ingness at  going  to  her,  because  he  was  sure  that 
in  some  way  he  could  make  his  new  resolve  known  to 
her,  and  believed  by  her.  When  he  had  got  within 
a  few  feet  of  her,  he  noticed  standing,  close  by,  the 
lady  of  the  white  gown  and  silver  shoes,  whom  he  had 
seen  get  into  the  carriage  earlier  in  the  evening.  She 
was  in  front  of  an  open  window,  her  graceful  head 
and  delicate  contours  outlined  against  the  dark1 
foliage  of  a  tree  that  was  almost  pushing  its  way 
into  the  opening.  Again  Fermor  had  the  feeling  of 
reminiscence,  of  a  vague,  unplaced  memory  of  her. 
As  at  the  dinner,  Madame  Fontarini's  surroundings 
accentuated  her  soft  and  pensive  beauty.  She  was 
speaking  with  Marsac  and  his  wife,  an  agreeable 
Frenchwoman,  and  her  air  was  exquisitely  gracious. 
From  Madame  Fontarini,  Fermor  glanced  toward 
Mrs.  Bellenden.  Never  had  Flora  Bellenden  looked 
so  artificial,  so  wholly  demoralised,  as  at  this  mo- 
ment. She  was  engaged  in  a  running  fire  of  rather 
pronounced  conversation  with  two  or  three  men 
who  were  laughing  at  her  bold  sallies.  She  wore 
an  air  of  triumph  as  she  saw  Fermor,  as  much  as  to 
say: 

"  See,  I  can  keep  men  around  me." 

Fermor,    with    a    bow    and    smile,    that    implied 


REGENERATION  29 

"  You  are  too  much  engaged  for  me  to  intrude  my- 
self," turned  and  spoke  to  Marsac  and  Madame 
Marsac.  They  were  very  cordial  and  Fermor  found 
himself  in  the  same  group  with  his  next-door  neigh- 
bour. 

At  her  first  words  he  perceived  that  she  was  an 
American.  Her  accent,  although  perfectly  correct, 
had  the  subtle,  transatlantic  difference.  So  had  her 
conversation.  The  group  talked  together  for  a  few 
minutes,  closely  watched  by  Mrs.  Bellenden.  Seeing 
that  Fermor  was  in  no  hurry  to  come  to  her,  she  dis- 
missed her  court  and  walked  up  to  him.  She  knew 
Marsac,  as  she  knew  everybody  in  London,  and  to 
him  she  immediately  began : 

"  You  have  treated  me  shamefully  of  late.  You 
have  not  once  been  to  me  on  Sunday,  and  I  am  think- 
ing of  cutting  you  out  of  my  motoring  party  to 
Richmond  next  week." 

Marsac,  who  was  the  embodiment  of  gentlemanly 
impudence,  replied  smiling: 

"  Thanks,  Mrs.  Bellenden,  but  I  did  not  know 
that  I  was  in  your  motoring  party." 

Instantly  a  kind  of  chill  fell  upon  the  group, 
which  had  been  talking  so  pleasantly  before.  Ma- 
dame Fontarini  moved  off,  shaking  hands  with  Ma- 
dame Marsac,  whom  she  asked  to  luncheon  with  her 
the  next  week,  and  bowing  gracefully  to  Marsac 
and  Fermor.  Marsac,  as  if  to  emphasise  his  snub 
to  Mrs.  Bellenden,  asked  plaintively  of  Madame 
Fontarini : 


30      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  Do  you  mean  to  ask  my  wife  to  luncheon  and 
leave  me  out?  I  feel  sure  it  is  an  unintentional 
omission." 

Madame  Fontarini  shook  her  head  with  smiling 
resolution. 

"  You  are  too  brilliant  and  entertaining,"  she  said  ; 
"  when  you  are  present  Madame  Marsac  and  I  do 
nothing  but  listen  to  you,  and  forget  all  that  we 
intended  to  say  to  each  other.  No,  I  shall  not  let 
you  come  to  luncheon  Tuesday." 

Mrs.  Bellenden  advanced  a  step  and  attempted 
to  engage  Marsac  in  conversation.  She  liked  to  be 
seen  talking  with  him,  as  he  was  reckoned  one  of 
the  great  wits  of  the  diplomatic  corps.  But  Marsac, 
with  perfectly  well-bred  diplomacy,  slipped  off,  after 
having  given  her  a  parting  shot,  which  might  be 
delicate  trifling,  or  else  scathing  impertinence.  Mrs. 
Bellenden  chose  to  take  it  as  the  latter. 

Anger  generally  turns  women  into  fools,  and  this 
was  the  case  with  Mrs.  Bellenden  at  that  moment. 

"  I  think,"  she  said  to  Fermor,  "  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, that  I  have  a  right  to  ask  you  to  show 
Marsac  he  cannot  address  me  in  that  manner  with 
impunity." 

Mrs.  Bellenden  had  spoken  in  low  tones  and 
Fermor  and  herself  were  far  enough  apart  from  the 
rest  of  the  throng  not  to  be  overheard.  Neverthe- 
less, instinctively  they  moved  toward  the  conserva- 
tory at  the  farthest  end  of  the  room.  Fermor,  hav- 
ing taken  his  resolution,  was  glad  of  an  oppor- 
tunity to  put  it  into  execution.  The  man  in  him 


REGENERATION  31 

rose  and  overpowered  the  gentleman.  Looking  Mrs. 
Bellenden  in  the  eye,  he  replied  suavely: 

"  I  shall  do  no  such  thing." 

The  blood  poured  into  Flora  Bellenden's  face  un- 
der the  rouge  upon  her  cheeks. 

"  Do  you  mean "  she  stammered. 

"  Exactly  what  I  say,"  answered  Fermor. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  the  other  persons  in  the 
room,  glancing  toward  the  two,  saw  that  Mrs.  Bel- 
lenden was  red  and  Fermor  pale. 

"Will  you  come  to  me  to-morrow  morning?"  she 
asked  hurriedly. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Fermor,  *'  and  for  the  last 
time." 

Then,  by  mutual  consent,  they  turned  back  to- 
ward the  groups  of  persons  standing  about  the  well- 
filled  rooms. 

The  man  and  the  woman  had  reached  the  parting 
of  the  ways,  and  the  moment  had  come,  with  a 
shock,  suddenly,  and  at  the  most  inappropriate  of 
times.  The  elemental  passions  are  all  unmannerly 
and  take  no  heed  of  man's  convenience,  or  woman's, 
either. 

One  person  present  had  observed,  and  understood, 
the  whole  scene  between  Fermor  and  Mrs.  Bellenden, 
which  seemed  a  mere  casual  conversation.  This  was 
Lord  Castlemaine,  who  said  to  himself  for  the  hun- 
dredth time: 

"  Fermor  will  have  a  reckoning  yet  with  Mrs.  Bel- 
lenden. God  forgives  and  men  forget,  but  women 
never  do  either." 


32      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

There  was  a  fourth  hand,  the  devil,  in  the  compli- 
cation with  Bellenden  and  his  wife  and  Lord  Fer- 
mor,  for  in  the  perilous  game  of  progressive  pas- 
sion the  devil  is  on  hand  at  the  beginning,  the  middle 
and  the  end. 

Then  Fermor,  saying  good-by  to  those  about  him, 
including  Mrs.  Bellenden,  went  out  of  the  room, 
passing  his  father.  There  was  a  laughing  devil  in 
Lord  Castlemaine's  eye  which  reinforced  Fermor's 
resolution,  already  strong,  to  break  for  ever  with 
Flora  Bellenden.  He  had  made  a  fool  of  himself 
for  the  last  time  about  her,  or  any  other  woman. 
He  longed  to  get  out  of  the  crowded  and  heated 
rooms,  into  the  chill,  fresh  air  of  the  night,  and  to 
have  the  companionship  of  a  man  like  Ashburton, 
single-minded,  and  simple-hearted.  He  caught  sight 
of  Ashburton  in  the  drawing-room  and  signalled  to 
him,  and  the  two  men  left  at  the  same  time. 

The  night  was  sharp,  for  June,  and  they  struck 
off  at  a  rapid  gait  through  the  quiet  streets.  Neither 
man  spoke,  although  each  was  in  the  mood  to  make 
and  receive  confidences.  Presently  they  found  them- 
selves walking  past  the  locked  gates  of  the  Park, 
through  which  could  be  discerned  the  black  masses 
of  the  trees,  and  the  wide  expanse  of  grass  upon 
which  a  silvery  moon  threw  dappled  shadows.  A 
cool  night  wind  was  blowing  up  the  river  from  the 
salt  seas.  It  rustled  the  tree-tops,  which  whispered 
anxiously  among  themselves,  in  the  cool,  mysterious 
night. 


REGENERATION  33 

"  Come,  my  boy,"  said  Ashburton,  "  you  are  go- 
ing too  fast  for  me.  Let's  halt  a  while." 

Fermor  stood  still  and  looked  meditatively  down 
upon  the  ground,  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  It  was 
long  after  midnight,  every  house  in  sight  was  dark, 
and  except  the  occasional  rolling  of  a  belated  cab  or 
carriage,  there  was  no  sound  to  break  the  silence  of 
the  streets. 

"  I  did  not  know  I  was  racing,"  he  said ;  "  the 
truth  is  I  feel  a  sense  of  relief,  of  escape,  that  a  man 
naturally  takes  out  in  walking.  I  am  a  free  man, 
Ashburton,  free  from  this  night  forward." 

No  name  passed  between  them,  but  Ashburton 
understood  in  a  flash  what  Fermor  meant.  To  make 
sure,  however,  he  asked  deliberately: 

"  Free  to  marry,  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Fermor,  "  not  that  I  am  thinking 
of  it ;  far  from  it.  But  I  am  free  to  do  it  now,  the 
first  time  in  ten  years.  I  have  given  up  the  Capuan 
delights.  I  have  other  matters  on  hand.  There  will 
probably  be  a  bye-election  in  Midlandshire  within 
a  month,  and  I  shall  stand  for  the  seat.  You  know 
my  desire  has  always  been  to  go  into  public  life, 
but  I  had  not  the  money,  or  had  other  uses  for  it. 
Now  the  chance  has  come,  after  ten  of  my  best  years 
are  gone." 

"  Yours  is  only  the  average  loss  in  a  man's  life," 
replied  Ashburton ;  "  mine  is  much  greater.  I  knew 
very  well  what  to  do  with  my  life  when  I  had  a  small 
allowance  and  a  mother  and  sisters  who  needed  help. 


34      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Then,  all  at  once,  a  lot  of  money  came  to  me,  and 
those  who  had  just  claims  on  me  no  longer  needed 
help.  I  think  I  was  free-handed  enough,  but  I 
was  not  such  a  fool  as  to  begin  the  wholesale  demor- 
alisation of  all  the  young  men  in  my  family,  by  hand- 
ing them  out  money.  I  tried  to  help  them  judi- 
ciously. I  don't  think  any  of  my  gifts  hurt  them. 
But  then  came  the  great  question — after  doing  for 
others,  what  to  do  for  myself?  I  am  not  an  idealist, 
like  you,  but  a  practical  man,  a  soldier,  a  man 
strongly  addicted  to  order  and  discipline.  When  I 
wake  up  in  the  morning  at  seven  o'clock,  I  wish  to 
know  what  I  shall  do  at  nine,  twelve,  six,  that  day. 
I  like  to  execute  orders  in  detail." 

"  It  is  that  spirit  which  fills  the  Trappist  monas- 
teries with  ex-military  men,"  replied  Fermor  with 
a  smile,  looking  at  Ashburton's  strong,  homely  face, 
which  the  keen  and  piercing  expression  redeemed 
from  commonplaceness. 

"  I  felt  myself  a  part  of  the  great  machinery  of 
the  universe.  I  know  that  idea  has  been  expressed 
grandly  and  poetically,  before.  I  don't  trouble  my- 
self about  the  universe,  it  is  this  England  of  ours, 
this  town  of  London,  that  concerns  me.  I  wish  to 
be  doing  something  here  under  orders  from  a  supe- 
rior, not  from  a  board  of  managers — I  never  believed 
in  councils  of  war.  When  things  have  got  to  that 
pass  that  the  commanding  general  does  not  know 
what  is  best  to  do  it  is  time  to  put  another  man  in 
his  place.  A  month  ago  I  met  the  man  I  showed 


REGENERATION  35 

you  this  evening — Brown,  who  had  been  a  chaplain 
in  my  regiment.  Good  working  name,  that  of 
Brown.  I  made  him  talk  about  himself.  I  swear 
to  you,  Fermor,  I  long  to  change  places  with  Brown. 
But,  see  the  good  sense  of  the  whole  system.  They 
choose  their  recruits  just  as  we  choose  ours  in  the 
army.  I  was  too  old.  I  did  not  have  the  spirit  of 
a  postulant.  I  did  not  wish  to  learn,  but  to  do." 

Ashburton's  ordinary  face  was  lighted  up,  not  so 
much  with  enthusiasm  as  with  resolution.  His  voice 
grew  tense  like  a  man  describing  conditions  to  a 
subordinate.  Fermor  listened  intently.  He,  him- 
self, wished  to  be,  more  than  to  do,  but  he  under- 
stood Ashburton's  next  words. 

'*  I  wish  to  do,  not  to  be.  It  is  said  of  Christ 
that  He  went  about  doing  good,  not  merely  being 
good.  This  being  good  is  a  matter  of  great  uncer- 
tainty to  everybody,  including  the  individual  man 
himself.  I  found  I  could  join  the  Third  Order  of 
St.  Francis  and  yet  remain  in  the  world,  for  I  am  no 
ascetic,  no  dreamer,  not  the  man  to  dig  in  a  mon- 
astery garden.  I  like  my  club,  I  wish  to  live  like 
a  gentleman,  though  without  extravagance,  and  to 
put  me  in  a  cassock  would  be  to  turn  me  into  a 
hypocrite.  A  fortnight  ago  I  made  my  resolve  and 
went  and  told  Brown,  a  practical  fellow  and  not 
given  to  talk,  about  it.  I  don't  think  altogether  we 
have  spoken  ten  minutes  upon  the  subject,  but  I  am 
now  a  member  of  the  Third  Order  of  St.  Francis  and 
I  have  something  to  do,  and  I  do  it." 


86      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Fermor,  deeply  interested. 
"  The  idealist,  you  know,  must  give  us  something 
practical  and  the  practical  man  must  give  us  some- 
thing ideal." 

"  I  found  something  practical  immediately.  A 
couple  of  poor  devils  at  Aldershot  got  in  a  drunken 
row  and  gave  a  publican  a  blow,  from  which  he 
died.  I  went  down,  by  Brown's  orders,  and  saw 
those  men  in  the  military  prison.  At  first  they  both 
protested  their  innocence,  which  was  a  lie,  and  I 
knew  it.  Before  I  left  one  had  broken  down — what 
do  I  say?  He  had  risen  up  to  the  full  stature  of 
a  man  and  said  to  me,  '  I  did  it,  sir,  my  pal  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it.'  And  the  other  fellow,  not 
to  be  outdone  in  generosity,  proposed  to  lie  like  a 
horse,  when  the  trial  came  on,  in  order  to  save  his 
comrade." 

Ashburton  gave  a  short  laugh.  The  form  which 
self-sacrifice  took  in  the  trooper's  primitive  mind 
was  amusing  enough. 

"  After  that  success  I  began  to  wonder  whether 
I  could  speak  to  you,  Fermor,  about  things  in  your 
life,  which  needed  mending.  I  talked  with  Brown 
about  it  and  he  said  '  No  '  flatfooted.  He  accused 
me  of  having  the  zeal  of  a  convert,  which  made  me 
swear  at  him.  But  see — you  have  spoken  to  me. 
You  have  broken  away  from  the  things  that  held  you 
back." 

"  But  it  was  not  from  any  impulse  of  goodness," 
replied  Fermor.  "  I  am  sick  of  the  whole  business." 


REGENERATION  37 

"  Never  mind,  you  have  broken  away.  There  is 
daylight  ahead  for  you." 

Without  saying  another  word  they  resumed  their 
walk  together.  Fifteen  minutes  brought  them  to 
the  open  space  of  Queen's  Gate.  Ashburton,  with 
a  brief  "  Good-night "  turned  into  one  of  the  small 
side  streets,  while  Fermor  went  on  to  where  the  great 
houses  stood  dark  and  massive  in  the  night  of  black 
shadows  and  white  moonlight.  He  felt  a  powerful 
influence  at  work  within  him.  Ashburton,  he  had  al- 
ways liked  and  respected,  and  the  simple  and  prac- 
tical nature  of  the  man  made  him  a  good  guide.  It 
was  as  if  in  starting  upon  a  difficult  and  hazardous 
journey,  he  had  found  a  travelling  companion  upon 
whom  he  could  rely. 

Fermor  let  himself  into  the  great  dark  house 
and  made  his  way  to  the  smoking-room  in  the  back. 
There  he  found  Lord  Castlemaine.  It  was  an  un- 
welcome jar  in  his  present  mood.  Lord  Castlemaine 
was  the  farthest  man  on  earth  removed  from  Ash- 
burton. . 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  been  trained  in  the  school 
of  selfishness  formed  by  the  law  of  primogeniture. 
It  was  remarkable  that  so  much  of  generosity  re- 
mained in  him  that  he  would  occasionally,  as  in  the 
matter  of  Fermor's  election  expenses,  deprive  him- 
self of  anything  whatever.  He  did  not,  however,  re- 
gret his  promise  in  this  instance,  but  it  rather 
inspired  him  with  the  wish  to  do  something  more  for 
Fermor, 


.38      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Lord  Castlemaine,  stretched  out  on  the  broad 
leather  lounge,  was  watching  the  blue  wreaths  of 
smoke  from  a  strong  cigar.  Fermor,  sitting  in  a 
great  arm  chair,  trifled  with  a  cigarette.  Lord 
Castlemaine,  whose  eye  was  always  seeking  to  be 
pleased,  looked  at  his  heir  with  approval.  Fermor 
could  not  be  described  as  handsome — Lord  Castle- 
maine hated  what  is  called  beauty  in  a  man — but 
Fermor  was  thorough-bred,  with  all  the  marks  of 
race  upon  him.  This  reflection  gave  Lord  Castle- 
maine the  opening  he  desired. 

"  I  am  thinking,"  he  said,  "  of  starting  a  mission- 
ary society  to  show  women  how  to  make  the  best  of 
their  beauty  and  the  least  of  their  ugliness.  This 
fashion  of  dyed  hair  among  women  is  enough  to 
drive  any  man  into  voluntary  celibacy  like  St. 
Paul." 

Fermor  said  nothing,  but  lighted  another  ciga- 
rette: 

"  You  know  how  one  of  the  American  comic  jour- 
nals described  the  modern  woman,  '  A  woman  of 
sixty,  who  looks  fifty;  who  thinks  she  is  forty; 
dresses  like  she  is  thirty;  and  acts  like  she  is 
twenty.'  This  exactly  describes  one-half  the  women 
I  saw  to-night." 

"  Most  Americans  are  amusing,"  said  Fermor, 
thinking  this  a  safe  and  general  proposition. 

"  I  sat  next  one  to-night  at  dinner  who  could  not 
be  called  amusing,  but  who  was  most  interesting. 
Oddly  enough  she  turned  out  to  be  the  daughter  of 


REGENERATION  39 

Seymour,  who  lives  in  the  next  house,  and  who  in 
God's  good  time,  I  hope,  will  become  the  purchaser 
of  King's  Lyndon.  She  is  the  lady  whom  we  saw 
get  into  the  carriage  this  evening." 

Fermor  recalled  her  with  faint  interest,  his  mind 
being  on  other  things. 

"  She  is  a  Madame  Fontarini.  Did  you  ever  hear, 
in  Rome,  of  that  Pietro  Fontarini,  nephew  of  the 
Cardinal.,  and  who  was  known  as  a  bad  hat  from  the 
beginning?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Fermor,  "  I  recollect  now,  the 
last  time  I  was  in  Rome,  six  or  seven  years  ago,  hear- 
ing of  a  frightful  thing  about  Pietro  Fontarini,  and 
I  also  now  recall  that  his  wife  was  an  American. 
There  was  a  boy,  an  only  child,  about  five  years 
old.  One  day  during  Madame  Fontarini's  absence 
Fontarini  took  the  child  out  and  was  gone  several 
hours.  The  weather  was  bad  and  when  the  little 
fellow  came  back  he  had  a  violent  chill  and  died 
within  a  week.  It  turned  out  that  Fontarini  had 
him  driving  for  several  hours,  up  and  down  the 
Pincio,  in  an  open  carriage  with  Sacco  the  dancer, 
and  himself.  That  was  too  much  for  Roman  so- 
ciety, and  Fontarini  was  declasse  after  that." 

"  I  recall  it  all  now,"  added  Lord  Castlemaine. 
"  Pietro  Fontarini  was  hissed  in  the  theatre,  and 
Sacco  was  obliged  to  leave  Rome.  Fontarini's  uncle, 
the  Cardinal,  cut  him  dead  in  public,  and  directed 
his  servant  not  to  let  Pietro  Fontarini  in  the 
house." 


40      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Suddenly  it  came  back  to  Fermor  where  he  had 
seen  Madame  Fontarini.  He  remembered  the  golden 
spring  afternoons  of  that  year  when,  in  the  Borghese 
Gardens,  he  had  often  seen  the  Cardinal,  a  stately 
old  man,  walking  with  a  young  women  draped  in 
black,  or  sitting  with  her  upon  a  stone  bench  in  the 
sunshine.  Sometimes,  the  girl,  for  she  was  little  more 
than  that,  would  throw  aside  her  heavy  black  veil, 
and  her  face,  pale,  grief-stricken  and  abstracted,  was 
the  face  of  Madame  Fontarini,  whom  Fermor  had 
seen  that  night  with  all  the  charm  of  gala  dress.  But 
in  her  dark  eyes  and  upon  her  sensitive  mouth  were 
the  traces  of  the  bygone  tragedy. 

Lord  Castlemaine  went  on  speaking : 

"Fontarini  luckily  is  dead,  and  it  seems  a  pity 
he  was  ever  born.  Madame  Fontarini  has  evidently 
returned  to  her  father,  and  appears  to  be  an  only 
child.  She  has  a  great  deal  of  charm  and  dignity. 
It  occurred  to  me,  to-night,  she  would  make  an  ad- 
mirable Countess  of  Castlemaine." 

"  For  yourself?  Let  me  know  the  date  and  I  will 
cheerfully  do  the  handsome  thing  and  will  be  best 
man." 

"  Oh,  Lord,  no !    I  was  thinking  of  you ! " 

"  But  I  have  often  heard  you  declare  that  Amer- 
ican heiresses  were  a  very  risky  investment." 

"  So  they  are — so  they  are — as  a  general  rule, 
but  this  woman  has  been  married  before.  Seymour 
expects,  so  his  daughter  told  me  to-night,  to  live  in 
England,  and,  of  course,  if  his  daughter  marries 


REGENERATION  41 

again  he  will  have  to  make  a  settlement  on  the  good 
old  British  plan — the  man  to  be  rewarded  for  his 
sacrifice." 

"  All  you  say,"  said  Fermor,  laughing  and  rising, 
"  would  apply  equally  well  in  your  own  case." 

"  Possibly,  but  I  am  acting  the  part  of  a  pater- 
nal pelican  toward  you.  At  all  events,  I  shall  cul- 
tivate the  father,  as  well  as  the  daughter,  and  if  I 
meet  Seymour,  I  shall  ask  him  to  call.  Madame  Fon- 
tarini  was  by  long  odds  the  best  dressed  woman  at 
the  dinner." 

"  I  admit,  as  regards  clothes,  the  American  women 
generally  leave  the  daughters  of  Albion  at  the 
starting  post." 

"  This  one  was  more  than  well  dressed.  She  had 
about  her  the  note  of  personal  distinction,  and  she 
was  not  hung  all  over  with  gew-gaws,  like  an  In- 
dian begum.  Well,  good-night.  Let  me  know  to- 
morrow morning  whether  you  are  inclined  to  enter 
the  running  with  Madame  Fontarini." 

Lord  Castlemaine  went  out  of  the  room.  Fermor, 
left  alone,  sat  down  again  and  began  to  smoke  and 
to  think.  Hope  welled  up  in  his  heart,  although 
he  had  before  him  that  hateful  half  hour  next  day. 
He  was  sure  of  himself  in  any  event  but  one.  If 
Flora  Bellenden  should  weep — he  never  could  resist 
a  woman's  tears.  He  had  never  seen  her  weep,  and 
he  did  not  think  she  could.  Anything  else,  re- 
proaches, taunts,  appeals,  he  could  withstand.  It 
might  end  by  Tom  Bellenden  putting  a  bullet 


42      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

through  his  head  or  through  Fermor's  heart,  for  Bel- 
lenden  was  a  primitive  man,  and  if  he  chose  to  see, 
there  was  no  reckoning  upon  what  he  might  do.  He 
had  not  seen,  and  suspicion  in  his  mind,  dominated 
by  his  wife,  had  never  taken  shape.  One  of  the 
worst  things  about  the  whole  business,  to  Fermor, 
was  Bellenden's  confidence  in  him,  a  confidence  at 
once  pathetic,  grotesque  and  lethargic.  The  thought 
of  that  nerved  Fermor  even  against  Flora  Bellen- 
den's  tears,  if  she  should  shed  any. 

Then,  as  a  relief  from  the  painful  anticipations 
of  the  next  day,  Fermor  turned  his  mind  upon  Ma- 
dame Fontarini.  There  indeed  had  been  a  tragedy. 
It  had  often  occurred  to  him  that  periods  in  the  lives 
of  human  beings  came  to  an  end,  were  closed  like 
books  and  laid  away  upon  the  shelf  never  to  be  re- 
opened again.  The  first  volume  of  Madame  Fon- 
tarini's  life  had  the  simple,  direct  and  inevitable 
tragedy  of  Greek  drama.  Now  it  was  done  with  and 
the  next  volume  might  be  all  delight  and  joy. 

And  Ashburton — he,  too,  was  beginning  a  new 
volume  rather  late  in  life,  for  he  would  never  see 
forty  again.  Fermor  determined  to  look  up  in  the 
encyclopedia  exactly  what  the  Third  Order  of  St. 
Francis  might  mean.  It  was  something  good,  and 
full  of  consequence,  or  Ashburton  would  never  have 
troubled  himself  about  it.  With  these  reveries 
Fermor  staved  off  more  unpleasant  ones,  until  he 
went  off  to  bed,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Thoughts  of  the  morrow  kept  him  wakeful- 


THE  clock  was  striking  eleven  next  morning  when 
Fermor  entered  Mrs.  Bellenden's  drawing-room. 
The  day  was  dull  and  cold,  for  the  season,  and  the 
light  was  grey  in  the  Chester  Street  drawing-room. 
Flora  Bellenden  was  waiting  for  him,  and  Fermor 
was  forced  to  admit  that  she  had,  or  should  have 
had,  great  and  striking  beauty.  She  was  taller  than 
most  women,  but  perfectly  lithe  and  graceful.  Her 
gown  was  sumptuous  and  becoming,  and  her  effects 
would  have  been  good  except  that  she  studied  them 
too  much.  As  Fermor  was  announced  she  rose,  and 
he  could  not  but  admire  the  stateliness  of  her  figure 
and  bearing. 

No  woman  deliberately  enters  upon  such  a  scene 
as  lay  before  Mrs.  Bellenden  without  looking  care- 
fully to  her  ammunition.  Flora  Bellenden's  ammuni- 
tion was  of  a  worthless  sort,  for  she  was  made  up 
more  artfully,  and  consequently  more  odiously,  than 
common.  She  greeted  Fermor  with  her  usual  famili- 
arity, calling  him  "  Reginald."  Fermor  used  the 
Englishman's  ordinary  and  invincible  weapon,  si- 
lence, and  waited  for  Mrs.  Bellenden  to  speak. 

"  We  had  an  unlucky  tiff  last  night,"  she  said, 
trying  to  smile  and  giving  Fermor  a  look  which  Vol- 

43 


44      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

taire  describes  as  the  "  long,  reproachful,  haggard 
glance  of  a  jealous  woman,"  "  but  I  suppose  we 
are  both  of  us  ready  to  make  up  again  this  morn- 
ing." 

"  That  was  not  my  understanding  of  it,"  replied 
Fermor  coldly. 

"  I  will  admit  I  was  in  the  wrong,"  presently  said 
Mrs.  Bellenden. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Fermor  had  given  her  a 
chance  to  dismiss  him,  but  her  last  speech  showed 
that  she  had  no  intention  of  doing  so. 

"  There  is  no  division  of  right  or  wrong,"  he  said 
in  reply ;  "  we  have  both  been  in  the  wrong.  I  am 
willing  to  take  my  share  of  the  blame — but  the  end 
has  come." 

No  woman  ever  hears,  unmoved,  these  words  from 
a  man ;  rage,  shame  and  despair  are  usually  her  por- 
tion then.  Flora  Bellenden  felt  rage  and  despair, 
but  suffered  no  pang  of  shame.  She  rose  and  took 
a  seat  near  to  Fermor. 

"  I  know  I  have  often  been  tiresome,"  she  said 
softly.  "  I  know  my  temper  is  trying,  but  think 
what  I  have  to  bear!  My  husband " 

Fermor  stood  up.  "  Let  us  not  speak  of  him,"  he 
said ;  "  it  ill  becomes  us  to  do  so.  Whenever  I  am 
in  that  man's  presence  or  under  his  roof  I  feel  my- 
self to  be  a  scoundrel.  It  is  not  a  particularly  pleas- 
ant feeling,  hence  I  have  concluded  to  be  a  scoundrel 
no  longer." 

He  had  meant  to  say  something  courteous   and 


THE  BREAKING  FROM  BONDAGE   45 

even  chivalrous  then,  but  she  gave  him  no  chance. 
She  poured  forth  reproaches,  threats  and  taunts, 
walking  excitedly  up  and  down  the  floor.  Nothing 
she  said  could  force  a  word  from  Fermor.  After  ten 
minutes  of  this  he  went  up  to  her,  and  drawing  from 
his  pocket  a  great,  glittering  diamond  ornament, 
put  it  in  her  hand. 

"  This  is  a  parting  gift,"  he  said. 

These  were  not  the  words  which  he  had  pondered 
over  on  his  way  to  Chester  Street.  In  parting  from 
a  woman  a  man  desires  to  say  something  regretful 
to  maintain  the  old  tradition  of  being  dismissed,  but 
all  of  Fermor's  soft  words  deserted  him.  His  native 
honesty  seemed  to  rise  up  and  throttle  him,  and 
keep  him  from  uttering  the  falsehoods  a  gentleman 
is  expected  to  tell  in  such  circumstances. 

If  Flora  Bellenden  had  showed  indignation  at  the 
gift,  if  she  had  felt  herself  insulted  by  its  offer,  if 
she  had  shed  tears,  Fermor's  ruin  might  not  have 
been  averted  then,  but  she  took  the  ornament  readily 
enough,  while  making  a  ridiculous  feint  of  not  want- 
ing it.  Nor  did  she  shed  a  single  tear.  Thus  did 
fortune  look  kindly  upon  Lord  Fermor. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said,  "  I  beg  you  will  always 
consider  me  as  a  friend,  but  I  can  never  come  here 
again." 

There  was  a  finality  in  his  tone  which  convinced 
even  Flora  Bellenden.  The  interview  had  lasted 
barely  fifteen  minutes.  This  then  was  the  parting 
after  ten  years.  The  wound  to  Mrs.  Bellenden's 


46      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

vanity  was  very  great,  and  it  also  meant  the  wreck 
of  many  ambitions,  but  in  the  midst  of  this  tumult 
of  soul,  the  streak  of  barbarism  and  of  childish- 
ness, which  dwells  in  women  like  herself,  made  her 
glance  furtively  and  with  satisfaction  at  the  dia- 
mond ornament.  It  must  have  cost  at  least  five  hun- 
dred pounds,  a  large  sum  for  a  man  in  Fermor's  posi- 
tion. 

"  The  time  may  come,  perhaps,  when  you  will  re- 
gret having  deserted  me,"  she  said  after  a  moment; 
"you  will  at  least  shake  hands  with  me." 

She  offered  Fermor  her  free  hand  and  he  took  it 
and  made  as  if  he  would  kiss  it,  then  dropped  it 
suddenly,  with  a  strange  expression  of  repulsion  on 
his  face.  The  next  moment  the  door  had  closed  after 
him. 

Mrs.  Bellenden  stood  motionless  until  she  heard 
the  street  door  shut.  Fermor  was  indeed  gone.  At 
once  her  mind  leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  there 
was  another  woman  in  the  case.  The  thought  threw 
her  into  an  agony  of  anger  and  a  passion  for  re- 
venge. Through  it,  nevertheless,  her  eyes  remained 
fixed  upon  the  dazzling  ornament  in  her  hand.  A 
new  difficulty  occurred  to  her;  how  was  she  to 
account  for  having  an  ornament  so  splendid,  and 
without  accounting  for  it  she  dare  not  wear  it. 
She  held  it  up  to  the  light,  watching  the  diamonds 
flashing  and  burning,  and  suddenly  her  husband 
stood  at  her  elbow.  His  florid,  handsome  face  had 
in  it  a  kind  of  dull  suspicion.  He  had  not  heard 


THE  BREAKING  FROM  BONDAGE   47 

voices  in  the  drawing-room,  nor  did  he  know  that 
Fermor  had  come  and  gone. 

"What  do  you  think  of  this?"  asked  Mrs.  Bel- 
lenden,  coolly,  handing  the  ornament  to  her  hus- 
band. "  Is  it  not  a  wonderful  imitation?  " 

Blellenden  glanced  at  the  glittering  thing.  He 
knew  nothing  of  jewels  and  was  ready  and  willing 
to  believe  anything  his  wife  might  tell  him  on  that 
or  any  other  subject. 

"  Some  fellows  at  the  club  last  night  were  saying 
it  was  hardly  worth  while  for  women  to  wear  genuine 
jewels  now-a-days,  the  imitations  are  too  good,"  he 
replied. 

"  Yes.  The  pearls,  you  know,  have  to  be  weighed 
to  tell  the  sham  from  the  real.  This  thing  is  ten 
pounds.  I  can  exchange  it  if  I  like.  I  thought  I 
would  show  it  to  you  and  Fermor  and  a  few  others, 
and  ask  what  you  thought  of  it  before  I  decided  to 
keep  it." 

"  I  hate  shams,"  replied  Bellenden,  "  but  I  am 
not  such  a  fool  as  to  meddle  with  my  wife's  taste  in 
dress." 

"  I  think  I  shall  keep  it,"  said  Mrs.  Bellenden.  She 
had  spoken  all  through  with  perfect  composure,  a 
composure  which  had  saved  her  in  many  tight  places 
before. 

Bellenden  was  going  to  ride  in  the  Park,  and  his 
wife,  as  a  good  strategic  move,  offered  to  ride  with 
him.  It  was  the  first  time  in  years  that  she  had  done 
such  a  thing,  and  poor  Tom  accepted  it  gratefully. 


48      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  they  were  cantering  to- 
gether along  the  Lady's  Mile.  The  morning  had 
suddenly  brightened  and  the  sun  was  shining,  and 
the  Park  was  full  of  that  smart  crowd  which  fills 
the  green  chairs  on  sunny  mornings  and  afternoons 
during  the  season.  Among  the  loungers  in  the  green 
chairs  were  a  number  of  men  and  women  who  laughed 
at  the  spectacle  of  Flora  Bellenden  riding  with  her 
own  husband.  Lord  Castlemaine  was  on  foot.  He 
liked  his  morning  stroll  in  the  Park  as  much  as  Dr. 
Johnson  loved  his  walk  down  the  Strand.  The  after- 
noon was  the  time  for  riding,  Lord  Castlemaine  de- 
clared, when  the  carriages  were  full  and  the  beauty 
show  was  on. 

Never  had  Lord  Castlemaine  seen  more  animation 
in  the  space  between  Queen's  Gate  and  Apsley 
House,  than  on  this  June  morning.  All  smart  Lon- 
don seemed  to  be  there.  It  was  almost  as  good  as 
the  London  of  Lord  Castlemaine's  youth,  as  described 
in  Disraeli's  novels,  only  the  scenes  of  one's  youth 
are  always  better  than  the  scenes  of  one's  old  age. 
At  every  turn  Lord  Castlemaine  met  acquaintances 
who  congratulated  him  on  his  looks,  for  no  man  in 
London  carried  sixty-five  years  better  than  he.  A 
monocle  was  still  good  enough  for  him,  and  his  keen 
eyes  travelled  over  the  crowd,  scarcely  missing  a 
face.  Bellenden  and  his  wife  riding  together  did 
not  escape  Lord  Castlemaine.  Mrs.  Bellenden  looked 
remarkably  well  on  horseback  and  her  secret  agita- 
tion gave  her  more  animation  than  usual.  Still 


THE  BREAKING  FROM  BONDAGE   49 

Lord  Castlemaine's  inward  comment  did  not  vary. 
Why  did  a  fellow  as  clever  as  Fermor  allow  him- 
self to  be  hauled  and  pulled  about  by  a  hussy  like 
Flora  Bellenden?  He  forgot,  after  the  manner  of 
men,  that  he  had  been  hauled  and  pulled  about  a 
good  deal  in  his  time  by  ladies  not  unlike  Mrs.  Bel- 
lenden. 

As  Bellenden  and  his  wife  passed  out  of  view, 
Lord  Castlemaine  caught  sight  of  a  lady  and  gen- 
tleman sitting  on  a  bench  together,  near  Albert 
Gate.  They  were  his  neighbours,  Madame  Fontarini 
and  her  father,  Seymour.  Madame  Fontarini  looked 
as  well  in  the  morning  as  in  the  evening.  She  was 
in  a  white  toilette  of  the  crisp,  fresh,  fine,  delicate  and 
expensive  sort  which  is  a  unique  possession  of  the 
American  woman,  and  her  white  gloves,  shoes,  hat 
and  parasol  shouted  out  her  nationality.  She  looked 
younger,  more  girlish  than  the  night  before.  Lord 
Castlemaine  at  once  made  his  way  toward  her  and 
greeted  her  in  his  most  charming  manner. 

"  And  this,  I  believe,  is  Mr.  Seymour,"  he  said,  of- 
fering his  hand  to  Seymour.  "  I  think  we  may 
claim  acquaintanceship  through  our  friend  Strat- 
ton." 

Seymour  shook  hands  courteously  and  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine, without  waiting  for  an  invitation,  seated 
himself  on  the  other  side  of  Madame  Fontarini.  He 
began  talking  to  her  in  his  most  brilliant  and  amus- 
ing style.  Seymour  listened  gravely  with  an  oc- 
casional smile.  As  Madame  Fontarini  was  quite 


50      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

different  from  the  usual  type  of  Anglicised  Ameri- 
cans, so  was  Seymour  slightly  different  from  any 
American  Lord  Castlemaine  had  yet  seen,  among 
the  class  who  have  town  houses  and  big  places  in 
the  country.  He  was  a  gentleman,  obviously,  with- 
out having  about  him  the  marks  of  race,  the  air  of 
the  highest  breeding,  which  distinguished  his  daugh- 
ter. His  hair  and  moustache  and  peaked  imperial 
were  quite  white,  and  he  gave  the  impression  of  a 
man  prematurely  aged.  The  expression  of  his  light 
blue  eyes  was  beautiful  and  peculiar.  It  was  the 
look  of  modesty,  of  deprecation,  of  gentle  humility, 
of  the  deepest  kindliness,  an  expression  rare  in  men 
and  women,  but  sometimes  seen  in  the  eyes  of  chil- 
dren. Seymour's  manner  corresponded  with  his 
looks ;  it  was  quiet,  retiring  and  shrinking.  The 
first  glance  revealed  that  Madame  Fontarini  was 
an  idolised  daughter.  The  relations  between  them 
seemed  curiously  reversed.  It  was  Madame  Fon- 
tarini, whose  attitude  was  one  of  tender  protection, 
of  affectionate  consideration.  She  frequently  turned 
to  her  father  and  addressed  him  with  gentle  respect. 
He  replied  in  kind,  but  briefly  and  without  contrib- 
uting much  to  the  conversation. 

Lord  Castlemaine  understood  perfectly  well,  from 
Madame  Fontarini's  presence  that  night  before  at 
the  Premier's  dinner,  that  she  had  access  to  the  best 
society  in  London. 

The  name  of  Fontarini  would  give  her  that.  He 
led  the  conversation,  artfully,  upon  the  Italian 


THE  BREAKING  FROM  BONDAGE   51 

Ambassador,  and  was  not  surprised  when  Madame 
Fontarini  replied  coolly  that  she  had  no  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Ambassador,  as  she  had  never  called 
at  the  Embassy. 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  been  talking  with  his  new- 
found acquaintance  quite  half  an  hour,  when  he 
caught  sight  of  Fermor,  walking  briskly  past. 

"  May  I  introduce  my  son,  Lord  Fermor?  "  he 
asked  of  Madame  Fontarini,  and  without  waiting 
for  permission,  beckoned  to  Fermor,  who  advanced 
and  was  introduced.  Theodora  Fontarini  was  famil- 
iar enough  with  the  English  customs  to  know  that 
this  was  a  proceeding  quite  out  of  the  ordinary.  But 
so  was  Lord  Castlemaine  out  of  the  ordinary,  and 
Fermor  also. 

The  proceeding,  which  would  have  flurried  any 
unmarried  woman  in  England,  bringing  up  at  once 
dazzling  visions  of  the  future  coronet  of  Castlemaine, 
had  no  such  effect  upon  Theodora  Fontarini.  She 
was  American  enough  to  regard  it  as  a  mere  act  of 
civility,  but  she  remembered  the  meeting  with  Fermor 
the  night  before,  just  as  Fermor  had  been  impressed 
by  her.  Madame  Fontarini  made  a  smiling  allusion 
to  their  meeting  at  Petersham  House,  twelve  hours 
before,  and  then  the  conversation  turned  on  Marsac, 
of  the  French  Embassy. 

The  group  was  standing  in  the  full  light  of  the 
bright  noon,  all  blue  and  gold.  Madame  Fontarini's 
dazzling  white  costume,  of  the  sort  unknown  in  Eng- 
land, made  her  conspicuous.  Fermor,  glancing 


52      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

toward  the  roadway,  saw  a  lady  and  gentleman 
walking  their  horses.  It  was  Tom  Bellenden  and  his 
wife.  Fermor  could  have  left  the  group  at  any 
moment,  but  Madame  Fontarini's  soft  charm,  the 
delicate  but  distinct  differences  between  her  and  the 
English  woman,  were  not  lost  on  Fermor.  He  felt 
very  much  inclined  to  linger,  and  when  he  saw  Mrs. 
Bellenden  his  inclination  became  a  resolve.  The  con- 
viction shot  into  Mrs.  Bellenden's  mind  when  she  saw 
Fermor  and  Madame  Fontarini  walking  through  the 
cool  green  Park,  followed  by  Lord  Castlemaine  and 
Seymour,  that  here  was  her  rival. 

Mrs.  Bellenden  was  tolerably  well  informed  con- 
cerning Seymour  and  his  daughter,  as  her  informa- 
tion to  Lady  Susan  Battle  had  indicated.  She  un- 
derstood, or  thought  she  understood,  the  whole 
thing.  It  was  the  American,  with  her  millions,  her 
calm,  assured  air  in  speaking  to  men,  her  distinctive 
toilettes,  who  had  lured  away  Fermor.  Mrs.  Bellen- 
den hated  all  Americans,  and  the  sight  of  Fermor 
walking  with  Madame  Fontarini,  who  took  it,  as 
Mrs.  Bellenden  thought,  in  a  ridiculously  cool  man- 
ner, made  her  hate  them  all  the  more,  as  a  woman 
only  can  hate. 

Another  person  was  surprised  and  annoyed  at  the 
sight.  This  was  Lady  Susan  Battle,  who  from  the 
balcony  of  her  house  watched  Fermor  accompany 
Madame  Fontarini  to  her  own  door.  Lady  Susan, 
accustomed  to  British  conventions,  concluded  that 
when  the  heir  to  an  earldom  walked  in  broad  day- 


THE  BREAKING  FROM  BONDAGE   53 

light  from  Hyde  Park  to  Queen's  Gate  with  an  un- 
married woman,  that  a  marriage  had  already  been 
arranged  between  them.  With  wrath  and  chagrin, 
she  said  as  much  to  Jane  Battle,  her  eldest  step- 
daughter. 

"  I  should  think,"  replied  Jane  calmly,  "  it  would 
be  a  very  good  thing  for  Lord  Fermor.  The  Ameri- 
cans have  such  oceans  of  money." 

Lord  Castlemaine  always  declared  Jane  to  be  the 
least  objectionable  of  the  Battle  girls.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  Jane  possessed  both  good  sense  and 
good  looks,  and  though  by  no  means  averse  to  Lord 
Fermor,  had  suffered  no  pangs  of  disappointed  love 
when  Lady  Susan  had  admitted  that  Fermor  could 
not  be  induced  to  take  the  notion  seriously  of  an 
alliance  with  the  house  of  Battle. 

"  But  why  can't  Fermor  marry  an  English 
woman?  "  Lady  Susan  demanded  of  Jane,  as  if  Jane 
were  responsible.  "  These  American  women,  every- 
body knows,  are  thoroughly  spoiled  and  lead  their 
husbands  a  dance.  But  it  is  all  the  King's  fault. 
If  he  had  never  taken  up  with  them,  we  would  not 
have  seen  these  American  duchesses  and  countesses 
elbowing  one  at  every  turn.  There  are  not  enough 
men  in  England  to  go  around,  and  it  is  a  hardship, 
I  say,  that  the  Americans  should  have  the  choice  of 
them,  and  the  King  has  something  to  answer  for  to 
British  mothers." 

Jane,  being  a  discerning  girl,  was  studying  Ma- 
dame Fontarini's  costume,  as  she  stood,  her  fluffy 


'54      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

white  parasol  tilted  back,  smiling  into  the  faces  of 
the  three  men  grouped  around  her. 

"  I  think,  mamma,"  said  Jane,  "  I  should  like  to 
have  a  white  gown  like  that,  but  I  don't  know  where 
I  could  get  it.  I  should  not  venture  on  the  white 
shoes? — my  feet  are  not  small  enough." 

"  I  should  think  not,"  agreed  Lady  Susan.  "  I 
consider  those  white  shoes  enough  to  compromise 
any  girl's  character." 

The  group  in  the  street  separated,  Seymour  and 
his  daughter  going  into  their  own  house,  while  Lord 
Castlemaine  and  Fermor  went  into  Castlemaine 
House.  A  part  of  the  unspoken  gratitude  which 
Fermor  felt  for  his  father  for  offering  him  money, 
showed  itself  in  his  going  home  and  lunching  with 
him. 

Lord  Castlemaine's  quick  eye  had  caught  sight 
of  Lady  Susan  Battle  upon  the  flower-decked  bal- 
cony, under  the  awning,  and  he  said,  laughing,  to 
Fermor : 

"  Your  Aunt  Susan  witnessed  our  stroll  with  our 
neighbours,  and  she  will  probably  take  it  out  on  me. 
I  do  not  know  why  it  is,  but  she  seems  a  little  afraid 
of  you." 

Fermour  laughed. 

"  My  aunt  is  a  good  woman,  but  very  diverting," 
he  said. 

The  father  and  son  went  together  upstairs  to 
the  drawing-room.  The  day  had  grown  hot  as  well 
as  bright,  and  the  balcony,  cool  and  shaded,  was  a 


THE  BREAKING  FROM  BONDAGE   55 

pleasant  place.  Lord  CastJemaine  picked  up  a  news- 
paper which  lay  on  the  table,  while  Fermor  took  up 
one  of  the  quarterlies.  After  five  minutes'  reading, 
Lord  Castlemaine  laid  down  his  newspaper  and  said 
to  Fermor  quietly,  as  if  continuing  their  conversa- 
tion of  the  night  before: 

"  It  is  the  best  marriage  that  could  be  arranged 
for  you.  The  lady  is  charming,  the  fortune  is  large ; 
and  if  King's  Lyndon  is  a  part  of  the  arrangement, 
it  will  more  than  maintain  the  family  interest  in  Mid- 
landshire." 

Fermor  laid  down  his  magazine  across  his  knee 
and  lighted  a  cigarette,  but  said  nothing.  If  anyone 
had  told  him  at  sunrise  that  before  night  he  would 
meet  a  woman  who  would  interest  him,  he  would  have 
gibed  at  the  notion ;  he  thought  he  had  had  enough 
of  the  feminine  sex  to  last  him  the  rest  of  his  life. 
But  just  as  Lord  Castlemaine  had  unexpectedly 
changed  his  mind  on  the  subject  of  American  heir- 
esses, since  meeting  Theodora  Fontarini,  so  the 
thought  of  another  feminine  element  in  his  life  did 
not  altogether  displease  Fermor.  Nothing  more 
was  said  and  they  sat  reading  on  the  balcony  for 
half  an  hour.  Then  from  Seymour's  house,  came 
the  soft  strains  of  a  violin,  touched  by  the  delicate, 
skilful  bow  of  a  woman.  Lord  Castlemaine  listened 
closely ;  he  was  no  mean  judge  of  music,  and  when 
the  violin-playing  ceased  he  looked  significantly  at 
Fermor,  who  glanced  away  as  if  he  had  not  observed 
the  music.  He  had  heard  every  note. 


CHAPTER   V 

EXPIATION 

THEODORA  FONTARINI  on  entering  her  house  went 
into  the  first  of  the  three  great  drawing-rooms  which 
made  a  long  vista  of  splendour.  The  lofty  room  was 
cool  and  redolent  of  flowers,  placed  lavishly  about  in 
it.  Madame  Fontarini  seated  herself  in  an  armchair 
in  front  of  the  glass  door  that  opened  upon  the  bal- 
cony, shaded  like  those  of  its  neighbours,  and  a  riot 
of  colour  with  its  blooming  plants. 

Madame  Fontarini  gazed  into  the  wide,  sunny 
street,  but  her  brooding  eyes  saw  nothing.  A  change, 
faint  indeed,  but  noticeable,  seemed  to  have  come  into 
her  life  during  those  few  weeks  in  England,  and  to- 
day she  recognised  it  for  the  first  time.  At  last,  her 
tragic  past  seemed  to  be  melting  a  little  in  that 
twilight  of  forgetfulness  which  is  on  the  horizon  of 
every  human  life. 

Like  all  women,  Theodora  cherished  her  griefs, 
and  they  had  been  great,  as  had  also  her  vicissitudes. 
On  her  marriage,  at  eighteen,  with  Pietro  Fontarini, 
a  splendid  fortune  was  bestowed  on  her,  and  every 
precaution  taken  by  her  father  that  she  should  con- 
trol it,  but  Pietro  Fontarini  was  not  the  man  to  let 
his  wife  have  any  money  and  be  at  peace.  At  first 
he  laughingly  requested  it  of  her,  and  she  gave  it 

56 


EXPIATION  57 

to  him  willingly.  Later,  when  she  made  a  faint  and 
blushing  protest,  he  demanded  it  of  her  violently, 
and  Theodora,  although  she  had  not  a  drop  of 
coward's  blood  in  her  body,  was  too  bewildered,  too 
inexperienced  to  resist.  With  a  noble  ignorance  she 
sought  to  shame  her  husband  by  giving  up  to  him 
in  haughty  silence,  all  he  demanded  of  her.  Noth- 
ing could  have  suited  Pietro  Fontarini  better  than 
this. 

Although  Theodora  had  quickly  and  rashly  yielded 
to  the  soft  seduction  of  love  for  the  handsomest 
young  Roman  of  them  all,  common  sense  and  her  own 
integrity  of  soul  soon  showed  her  Pietro  Fontarini 
as  he  really  was.  No  woman's  love  could  survive 
that  revelation.  Pride  and  native  dignity  kept 
Theodora  silent,  under  outrages  that  an  older  and 
more  experienced  woman  would  have  made  Pietro 
pay  for  dearly. 

When  her  child  was  born  the  young  mother  of 
nineteen  thought  that  compensation  had  at  last 
come  to  her.  The  boy  was  noble  minded  like  his 
mother,  but  the  beautiful  image  of  his  father.  The 
thought  that  he  might  resemble  Pietro  in  other 
ways  went  like  a  knife  to  the  heart  of  Theodora, 
and  then,  overwhelmed  with  remorse  and  considering 
it  a  crime  to  suspect  a  child  of  such  latent  iniquity, 
she  would  clasp  him  in  her  arms  and  shower  caresses 
upon  him.  These  things  and  the  agony  of  the  child's 
death  had  haunted  her  continually  for  six  years  past, 
and  only  lately,  since  she  had  come  to  England,  had 


$8      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

she  been  able  to  withdraw  her  mind  enough  from  them 
to  take  any  interest  in  the  world  around  her.  Dur- 
ing all  those  years  of  sadness  her  father's  tenderness 
and  patience  had  never  failed,  and  it  was  for  him 
that  Madame  Fontarini  at  last  roused  herself  from 
the  torpor  of  grief,  and  had  taken  up  her  life  at  the 
point  it  had  been  dropped  when  she  entered  upon 
those  stormy  years  with  Pietro  Fontarini. 

She  had  always  been  a  great  reader,  and  she  re- 
sumed her  books,  after  having  cast  them  aside  with 
bitterness  for  years,  saying  they  could  do  nothing 
for  her.  In  her  girlhood  she  had  been  devoted  to  her 
violin,  but  that,  too,  had  been  abandoned  till  lately. 
Her  father  loved  to  hear  her  play  upon  her  instru- 
ment, and  since  they  came  to  London  she  had  been 
under  a  master  and  found  her  old  skill  returning. 

Of  deeper  things,  although  Theodora's  mind  was 
ever  searching  and  weighing,  she  knew  not  what  she 
thought  or  believed.  The  God  of  goodness,  in  whom 
she  had  trusted  with  childlike  confidence  until  her 
marriage,  became  to  her  a  relentless  tormentor  of 
souls.  Pietro  Fontarini  reviled  religion  in  every 
form,  and  shocked  as  Theodora  was  in  the  beginning, 
Fontarini's  gibes  and  outpourings  of  contempt  had 
not  been  without  their  effect.  His  family  made 
great  professions  of  religion  and  observed  all  the 
outward  and  ostentatious  forms  of  piety,  but  Theo- 
dora had  not  seen  in  them  much  of  the  religion  of 
the  Nazarene. 

The  Fontarini  family  looked  upon  the  marriage 


EXPIATION  59 

of  Pietro  as  a  purely  commercial  arrangement,  the 
exchange  of  rank  for  money,  and  inexperienced  as 
they  were  in  women  of  Theodora's  type,  it  is  hardly 
to  be  wondered  that  they  held  her  partly  accountable 
for  Pietro  Fontarini's  complete  demoralisation.  Car- 
dinal Fontarini  alone  did  the  young  wife  complete 
justice  and  gave  her  a  degree  of  countenance  and 
support  that  put  her  position  beyond  question.  He 
had  not  forced  religion  upon  her,  seeing  she  was  in 
no  mood  to  accept  anything  as  truth  which  savoured 
of  mercy.  But,  deeply  grateful,  as  Theodora  was 
for  the  Cardinal's  unfailing  kindness  and  steady 
support,  there  was  about  him  that  aloofness,  that 
detachment  of  soul,  of  an  ecclesiastic  who  believes 
that  sin  is  the  only  real  evil. 

Since  she  had  been  in  England,  Madame  Fontarini 
had  occasionally  slipped  into  the  open  door  of  a 
church  and  remained  a  few  moments.  She  had  not 
yet  been  brought  to  her  knees,  but  she  was  nearer 
submission  than  she  had  been  for  ten  years  past. 

These  things  drifted  dreamily  through  Theodora*s 
mind  as  she  sat  still  and  silent,  her  inward  gaze  upon 
herself;  then,  strangely  enough,  she  found  herself 
thinking  of  other  things,  of  the  present  and  even  of 
the  future.  Being  all  a  woman,  she  was  conscious 
of  Lord  Castlemaine's  open  admiration  and  marked 
attention  to  her,  and,  knowing  well  who  and  what 
he  was,  her  woman's  vanity  was  pleased.  And  Fer- 
mor — Madame  Fontarini  could  not  recall  when  she 
had  met  a  man  who  interested  and  pleased  her  so 


60      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

much  upon  a  casual  meeting.  Even  after  that 
chance  encounter  the  night  before  at  Petersham 
House,  she  would  have  recognised  him  anywhere. 
She  was  actually  speculating  upon  whether  Fermor 
would  call  upon  her  or  not,  when  her  reverie  was 
broken  by  her  father's  step  behind  her,  and  Sey- 
mour saying: 

"  Here  is  your  music  master,  my  dear." 

Madame  Fontarini  rose  at  once  and  greeted  Sig- 
nor  Barotti,  the  violin  teacher.  He  was  a  small, 
dark,  ugly  little  man,  lacking  an  eye,  but  the  one 
remaining  was  full  of  intelligence  and  playfulness. 
Theodora  had  thought  that  nothing  could  overcome 
her  prejudice  to  the  Italians,  but  Barotti's  ami- 
able temper  and  gaiety  of  heart  conquered  her  good 
will  as  much  as  his  mastery  of  the  violin  and  his  ca- 
pacity to  teach  it  commanded  her  respect.  He  was 
usually  full  of  jokes,  and  this  half-blind,  poverty- 
stricken,  hard-working  Italian  seemed  to  be  the 
most  cheerful  person  in  London.  Seymour  was  al- 
ways present  at  the  violin  lessons,  enjoying  Barot- 
ti's quips  and  cranks  as  much  as  the  music.  To- 
day, however,  the  music  master  was  silent  and  even 
morose.  Theodora,  before  taking  up  her  violin, 
went  to  a  mirror  and  removed  her  white  hat  and 
smoothed  her  hair.  She  was  surprised  by  Barotti 
saying,  with  some  impatience: 

"Pray,  Madame,  let  us  not  lose  time.  I  am  late 
to-day  and  we  must  work  to  make  up  for  lost  time." 

Theodora   took  up  her   violin,   and  meaning   to 


EXPIATION  61 

please  and  surprise  Barotti,  dashed  into  a  bit  of 
Brahms,  full  of  wild  harmonies  mingled  with  a 
soft-recurring  melody  all  passion  and  sadness.  This 
was  the  music  which  floated  into  the  next  house,  and 
charmed  Lord  Castlemaine  and  Fermor. 

When  Theodora  finished  she  looked  smilingly  at 
Barotti,  waiting  for  praise,  but  instead  of  a  compli- 
ment, Barotti  only  said,  fretfully,  in  Italian: 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  do  it  well,  pretty  well,  but  why 
should  you  not?  The  violin  is  a  greedy  instru- 
ment. It  will  have  those  who  play  it  to  eat  well, 
to  sleep  well,  to  have  fresh  air  and  not  to  degrade 
the  bow-arm  with  labour.  But  there  are  some  of  us 
who  have  other  masters  to  serve,  than  this  greedy 
violin,  who  must  play  for  hours  with  hunger  gnaw- 
ing at  us,  and  weakening  the  play  of  the  bow-arm, 
whose  nerves  are  on  the  rack  with  sleepless  nights, 
and  whose  minds  are  on  things  the  rich  call  sordid. 
Oh,  they  are  all  alike,  the  rich ! " 

Barotti's  face  was  working;  he  seemed  consumed 
with  rage  and  disgust  at  life. 

Theodora  set  her  violin  and  bow  down  on  the 
piano.  A  quick,  angry  colour  came  into  her  pale 
cheeks,  and  she  looked  at  Barotti  in  silence.  Barotti 
grew  frightened ;  he  thought  that  she  was  offended 
with  him  and  that  he  should  lose  his  best  pupil,  and 
he  stammered  out  something  of  the  sort. 

When  Theodora  spoke  it  was  with  gentleness. 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  also  in  Italian,  "  that  some- 
thing must  have  gone  very  unfortunately  with  you 


62      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

to-day.  It  Is  now  two  o'clock  and  luncheon  is  on 
the  table.  Suppose  you  come  and  have  luncheon  with 
us  and  finish  scolding  me  at  the  table." 

Then,  turning  to  her  father,  she  said  in  English: 

"  Come,  papa,  Mr.  Barotti  will  have  luncheon 
with  us." 

At  this  Barotti  suddenly  laid  his  head  down  on 
the  piano  and  burst  into  a  passion  of  weeping. 

Theodora,  touched  and  amazed,  placed  a  soft 
hand  on  the  poor  violinist's  arm,  but  it  was  Mr. 
Seymour  who  came  up  and  said  in  a  quick  voice : 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you?  If  it  is  a 
question  of  money " 

He  dived  down  into  his  pockets  as  he  spoke. 

Barotti  rushed  away,  through  the  second  drawing- 
room  into  the  third,  where,  half  hidden  by  a  window 
curtain,  he  gradually  recovered  his  composure.  In 
the  first  drawing-room  Seymour,  with  a  light  in  his 
usually  sad  eyes,  was  saying  to  Theodora: 

"  We  must  help  the  poor  fellow.  We  can't  let 
him  suffer,  you  know." 

Theodora  smiled  and  patted  her  father's  hand. 

"  I  believe,  papa,  you  have  made  some  sort  of  a 
vow  to  help  everybody  that  you  can  in  distress." 

"  Not  a  vow,  my  dear,  but  an  expiation " 

Seymour  suddenly  stopped.  Theodora  asked  no 
questions.  She  had  heard  that  word  "  expiation  " 
spoken  more  than  once  by  her  father,  but  he  had 
never  offered  any  explanation  of  it  and,  with  in- 
stinctive delicacy,  his  daughter  refrained  from  ques- 


EXPIATION  63 

tion  or  comment.  In  her  own  mind,  Theodora  be- 
lieved her  father  to  have  committed  some  venial 
offence,  and  with  the  singular  sensitiveness  of  con- 
science which  distinguished  him,  he  had  determined 
to  make  of  his  life  one  long  act  of  reparation. 

In  a  minute  or  two,  Barotti,  somewhat  composed, 
returned  to  the  first  drawing-room. 

"I  will  tell  you,"  he  said  to  Theodora,  "what 
breaks  my  heart  to-day.  My  boy,  Nicolo,  has  been 
ill  for  long.  He  is  all  I  have  in  the  world,  and  as 
fast  as  I  made  money  I  spent  it  on  doctors  and  hos- 
pitals for  Nicolo.  Two  weeks  ago  he  grew  more  ill, 
and  since  it  has  been  like  tearing  my  heart  from  my 
body  to  leave  the  boy.  But  I  could  not  give  up  my 
lessons.  I  think  the  lad  is  worse  to-day,  yet  I  was 
forced  to  leave  him  as  usual.  That  is  what  made  me 
so  irritable  to  you,  the  kindest  as  well  as  the  best  of 
my  pupils." 

"  It  was  nothing,"  replied  Theodora,  smiling ; 
"  let  us  go  to  luncheon  and  talk  it  over." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  cried  Seymour  to  Barotti, 
"why  did  not  you  speak  of  this  before?  Every- 
thing necessary  shall  be  done  for  the  boy,  without 
cost  to  you." 

Barotti  was  astounded  at  this,  but  Theodora  took 
it  as  a  matter  of  course,  being  accustomed  to  it 
from  her  childhood. 

The  three  went  down  to  the  dining-room  and  Ba- 
rotti recovered  a  little  of  his  spirits  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  kindness  which  surrounded  him. 


•64      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

As  soon  as  luncheon  was  over  Seymour  ordered  a 
cab  and  went  off  in  it  with  Barotti.  Barotti's  wide 
mouth  wore  a  broad  grin  of  delight  and  his  one  eye 
scintillated  with  joy  and  gratitude. 

At  five  o'clock  Seymour  had  not  returned  and 
Madame  Fontarini  went  alone  for  her  drive  in  the 
Park.  The  afternoon  was  glorious,  and  all  gay  Lon- 
don seemed  to  have  poured  itself  into  the  Park. 
There  was  a  blockade  of  carriages  from  Albert 
Gate  to  the  Achilles  statue,  and  the  crowd  of  well- 
dressed  men  and  women  sitting  in  the  chairs  or 
leaning  over  the  railing  enjoyed  the  sight,  at  close 
quarters,  of  half  the  beauty  of  London. 

Madame  Fontarini,  in  her  well-turned-out  vic- 
toria and  pair,  bore  the  scrutiny  calmly.  She 
was  accustomed,  to  the  observation  and  even  to  the 
free  remarks  of  a  Roman  crowd,  and  the  London 
multitude  was  nothing  to  that.  To  this,  however, 
was  one  exception.  At  one  point,  where  the  line  of 
carriages  going  in  opposite  directions  was  halted, 
an  open  carriage  in  which  sat  Mrs.  Bellenden  almost 
locked  wheels  for  five  minutes  with  Theodora's  car- 
riage. Mrs.  Bellenden  recognised  Theodora  instantly 
as  the  lady  with  whom  Fermor  had  been  seen  walking 
and  talking  in  the  morning.  Theodora  was  a  per- 
sonality, and  personalties  are  easily  numbered,  espe- 
cially when  they  are  in  sharp  rivalry  with  a  jealous 
woman.  Mrs.  Bellenden  fixed  a  look  of  curiosity 
upon  Theodora  which  soon  became  impertinent. 
Madame  Fontarini  had  a  goool  memory,  but  if  she 


EXPIATION  65 

had  been  inclined  to  forget,  Mrs.  Bellenden's  cool, 
supercilious,  but  intense  stare  would  have  brought 
her  to  mind.  Madame  Fontarini,  although  acutely 
conscious  of  it,  gave  not  the  least  sign  of  annoyance, 
but  sat  back  in  her  victoria,  apparently  in  calm  un- 
consciousness of  Mrs.  Bellenden's  fixed  gaze.  From 
mere  impertinence  it  grew  insulting;  hatred  and  re- 
sentment were  in  it. 

Theodora  felt  a  shock  of  surprise  and  a  sudden 
consciousness  that  this  handsome  spectacular-look- 
ing woman  was  an  enemy.  She  was  on  her  mettle, 
and  when  the  carriage  ahead  of  her  moved  and  her 
coachman  did  not  at  once  proceed,  she  was  enough 
mistress  of  herself  to  give  no  order  to  him,  but  she 
was  glad  when  she  was  out  of  the  reach  of  Mrs. 
Bellenden's  eyes. 

It  was  after  seven  o'clock  before  Theodora  re- 
turned home.  No  word  had  been  received  from  Mr. 
Seymour.  This  somewhat  disturbed  Theodora.  She 
knew  her  father's  passion  for  doing  charity,  and  it 
had  happened  more  than  once  before  that,  going  to 
see  some  sick  person,  he  had  remained  the  night  and 
even  several  nights. 

Madame  Fontarini  dressed  for  dinner  and  sat  down 
alone  to  the  table  in  the  gorgeous  dining-room. 
After  dinner  she  went  up  into  the  dusky  drawing- 
room,  and  declining  to  have  the  lamps  lighted,  sat 
alone  in  the  twilight.  It  was  quite  nine  o'clock  and 
the  light  was  fading  out  of  the  western  sky,  when 
a  gentleman  was  announced  at  the  door  of  the  draw- 


66      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ing-room — Major  Ashburton.  Theodora  rose  as  he 
advanced.  His  air  and  manner  were  those  of  a  man 
of  the  world,  and  though  he  was  short  and  plain  he 
was  far  from  insignificant — so  much  Theodora 
recognised  at  the  first  glance. 

"Allow  me  to  introduce  myself — Major  Ashbur- 
ton, and  this,  I  believe,  is  Madame  Fontarini." 

Madame  Fontarini  bowed  and  asked  Ashburton 
to  have  a  seat,  which  he  took  and  continued: 

"I  have  come  with  a  message  from  Mr.  Sey- 
mour. He  desires  me  to  say  that,  on  going  to  the 
lodgings  of  Barotti,  the  music  master,  he  found  the 
boy,  Nicolo,  very  ill  with  scarlet  fever.  The  nurse, 
whom  Barotti  had  hired,  deserted  the  boy,  and  Mr. 
Seymour  felt  that  his  services  were  needed  on  the 
spot.  He  remained,  therefore,  until  the  doctor  and 
another  nurse  were  secured  by  telephone,  but,  of 
course,  after  having  been  several  hours  in  the  room 
with  the  boy,  Mr.  Seymour  is  in  quarantine.  I  spoke 
with  him  from  the  door,  as  I  was  not  allowed  to 
enter  the  room,  and  he  asked  me  to  say  to  you, 
with  his  love,  he  would  communicate  with  you  every 
day  and  would  return  as  soon  as  it  was  safe  to 
do  so." 

"  I  was  afraid  of  something  of  the  sort,"  cried 
Theodora.  "  It  is  so  like  my  father." 

"  Meanwhile,"  continued  Ashburton,  "  Mr.  Sey- 
mour directs  that  his  man  shall  put  up  some  clothes 
and  other  things  desired,  and  I  will  take  them  in 
my  cab,  which  is  waiting," 


EXPIATION  67 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  replied  Theodora, 
quickly,  "  I  accept  your  favour  gratefully." 

She  rang  the  bell,  and  sending  for  Seymour's 
valet,  ordered  him  to  put  up  the  necessary  things 
and  take  them  down  to  the  cab.  Then  she  returned 
to  Ashburton. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you,  too,"  she  said,  smiling, 
"to  do  so  much.  I  think  we  all  would  help  Signer 
Barotti,  or  any  one  else  in  a  like  emergency,  but  some 
people,  like  my  father,  seem  to  have  the  knack  of 
finding  out  emergencies." 

To  this,  Ashburton  said  nothing.  He  was  a 
natural  celibate  and  not  much  interested  in  women, 
but  Madame  Fontarini  appealed  to  him  as  being 
rather  finer  and  stronger  than  the  average  woman. 
Besides  she  was  of  a  type  so  different  from  English 
women  that  she  attracted  notice  like  an  unusual 
flower  in  a  garden.  Ashburton's  remark,  however, 
was  not  of  a  poetic  sort.  He  said : 

"  There  is  an  immense  deal  of  scarlet  fever  about. 
I  have  heard  of  a  dozen  cases  within  a  week." 

Madame  Fontarini  was  a  little  puzzled.  Was 
this  gentleman  a  doctor?  She  remembered  that 
army  surgeons  were  in  England  given  military 
titles. 

"  Perhaps  your  profession,"  she  said,  "  brings 
you  in  the  way  of  finding  out  about  these  things." 

"  My  profession  is,  or  was,  the  army,"  replied 
Ashburton. 

Madame  Fontarini  smiled  with  a  pretty   air  of 


68      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

knowing  something  which  her  companion  did  not 
wish  her  to  find  out. 

"  I  understand,"  she  said ;  "  you  are  like  my 
father,  one  of  those  men  who  like  to  do  good,  and 
search  for  occasions." 

Ashburton's  face  flushed  crimson  up  to  the  roots 
of  his  sandy  hair.  In  truth,  he  hated  to  be  found 
out. 

"  All  of  us  must  do  some  good,"  he  began  blun- 
deringly. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Madame  Fontarini,  easily, 
"  but  all  of  us  do  not  hunt  up  scarlet  fever  cases. 
Not  that  one  need  really  be  so  afraid  of  it,  unless 

there  are  children "  she  stopped  suddenly  and  a 

change  came  over  her  face. 

"Perhaps,"  said  Ashburton,  misunderstanding 
her  and  rising  hastily,  "  you  may  be  afraid  for  your 
children.  I  assure  you  I  was  not  in  the  room." 

"  I  have  no  children,"  responded  Madame  Fon- 
tarini, and  repeated  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  have  no 
child." 

Something  in  her  tone  told  that  she  had  once 
had  a  child,  and  it  was  no  more.  Ashburton  said 
nothing,  but,  looking  into  Theodora's  eyes,  a  kind 
of  psychic  understanding  came  to  both  the 
man  and  the  woman.  The  craving  for  sympathy 
and  the  consciousness  that  Ashburton  was  sympa- 
thetic in  the  highest  degree,  made  Madame  Fonta- 
rini say  in  the  same  low  voice: 


EXPIATION  69 

"  I  had  a  child,  a  beautiful  man-child.  If  he 
were  alive  he  would  be  quite  as  tall  as  my  shoulder." 

Then  Tompkins,  Mr.  Seymour's  valet,  passed  down 
the  stair,  carrying  his  master's  portmanteau. 
Madame  Fontarini,  going  to  a  vase  of  roses,  took 
from  it  three  beautiful  red  roses. 

"  Give  this  one  to  my  father  with  my  love,"  she 
said,  smiling  and  handing  one  to  Ashburton,  "  and 
give  him  this  one  with  my  dear  love,  and  the  third 
one  with  my  dearest  love." 

Ashburton's  shrewd  eyes  expressed  surprise.  He 
had  never  known  an  English  daughter  on  quite 
these  terms  of  affectionate  intimacy  with  her  father, 
which  Theodora's  words  suggested.  He  had  been 
struck  before  by  Seymour's  tender  solicitude  for  his 
daughter,  and  the  whole  thing  was  as  beautiful  as  it 
was  unusual  to  Ashburton,  who  knew  nothing  of 
American  daughter-worship.  He  bowed  himself  out, 
and  Theodora,  for  the  second  time  that  day,  felt  a 
sensation  of  interest  and  admiration  concerning  a 
man. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE  PORTAL  OF  THE  HEAET 

SEVERAL  days  passed  and  Seymour  remained  ab- 
sent, but  every  day  Theodora  received  a  letter  from 
him.  Ashburton,  however,  did  not  again  call,  which 
Theodora  regretted,  feeling  a  desire  to  know  him 
better.  And,  although  going  out  in  society  gave 
her  no  particular  pleasure,  she  accepted  invitations 
and  paid  visits  as  a  relief  from  the  sharp  introspec- 
tion, which  she  now  shrank  from  for  the  first  time 
in  years.  Theodora  also  laid  aside  certain  books, 
like  those  of  Pascal  and  Amiel,  which  she  had  read 
too  much,  seeing  in  them  the  reflection  of  her  own 
questioning  and  despondent  soul.  She  began  to  wish 
for  friends,  and  determined  to  cultivate  those  persons 
who  showed  a  kindly  interest  in  her.  The  first  of  these 
were  the  Marsacs,  and  Theodora  really  enjoyed  the 
day  when  Madame  Marsac  lunched  with  her.  Madame 
Marsac's  French  grace  and  her  quick  Gallic  sympa- 
thy appealed  to  Theodora.  Marsac,  who  knew  every- 
thing, knew  Theodora's  history  and  had  told 
Madame  Marsac.  This  gave  Madame  Marsac  much 
insight  into  Theodora's  character. 

In  passing  to  and  from  her  carriage  in  the  after- 
noon and  evening  and  in  going  for  her  morning 
walk  in  the  Park,  Theodora  was  often  seen  by  her 

TO 


THE    PORTAL    OF    THE    HEART       71 

neighbours,  including  Fermor.  His  masculine  eye 
could  not  but  be  pleased  by  Madame  Fontarini's 
exquisite  naturalness  of  appearance  and  her  air  and 
manner;  they  were  those  of  a  girl  of  twenty.  Ma- 
dame Fontarini,  though,  was  no  girl,  but  a  woman 
who  had  lived  through  storms  and  tempests  that 
would  have  wrecked  most  women.  Once  or  twice 
they  met,  in  the  street,  and  talked  for  a  few  min- 
utes. But,  as  Fermor  had  not  seen  fit  to  avail  him- 
self of  Seymour's  cordial  American  invitation  to 
call,  Theodora  did  not  linger  in  Lord  Fermor's  com- 
pany. 

As  for  Fermor,  he  was  more  sensitive  to  Madame 
Fontarini's  charm  than  she  suspected,  but,  like  a 
true-born  Briton,  he  postponed  everything  concern- 
ing women  for  what  he  considered  more  important 
affairs.  At  that  moment  he  was  deep  in  county  poli- 
tics, as  it  was  obvious  that  there  would  very  soon 
be  a  vacancy  in  the  division.  Of  course  he  was  bom- 
barded with  frantic  letters  from  Flora  Bellenden, 
which  he  regularly  threw  unread  into  the  fire.  She 
would  have  waylaid  him  if  she  could,  but  Fermor 
was  resolute,  and  when  he  saw  her,  passed  by  on 
the  other  side,  gazing  straight  at  her  and  smiling, 
so  there  could  be  no  pretence  that  he  did  not  see 
her. 

Two  persons,  Mrs.  Bellenden  and  Lady  Susan 
Battle,  expected  daily  the  announcement  of  Fer- 
mor's engagement  to  Madame  Fontarini,  to  whom 
he  had  not  so  far  paid  a  single  visit. 


72      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

One  rainy  afternoon,  during  the  week  of  Sey- 
mour's absence,  Fermor  determined  to  pay  a  visit  of 
ceremony  to  Madame  Fontarini,  but,  just  as  he  made 
his  resolve,  he  saw  Lord  Castlemaine  wending  his 
way  next  door.  Fermor  promptly  concluded  to  wait 
until  he  should  see  his  father  emerge  from  Madame 
Fontarini's  door. 

Theodora,  sitting  at  her  solitary  tea  table,  in 
the  vast  suite  of  drawing-rooms,  watched  the  grey 
rain  come  down  in  sheets.  On  the  table  beside  her 
lay  an  open  volume  of  Amiel,  to  which  the  sad 
grey  day  had  once  more  drawn  her.  A  longing 
was  in  her  heart  for  companionship,  and  it  was  with 
a  sensation  of  pleasure  she  heard  Lord  Castlemaine 
announced.  He  entered,  bringing  with  him  the  at- 
mosphere of  strength,  power  and  interest  which 
was  ever  his  own. 

"  I  meant  to  call  long  before,"  he  said,  "  but 
there  is  an  attorney  in  town  by  the  name  of  Strat- 
ton  who  seems  to  own  me  as  Mephistopheles  owned 
Faust.  However,  to-day  I  claimed  my  freedom  and 
determined  to  come  in  and  pay  my  respects  to 
you." 

Then  Madame  Fontarini  explained  that  her 
father  was  not  at  home  and  went  on,  quite  as  a 
matter  of  course,  to  tell  the  story  of  Barotti's 
stricken  child. 

"  In  my  youth,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine,  receiving 
his  first  cup  of  tea,  "  nobody  ever  heard  of  these  in- 
cursions upon  the  poor,  and  we  didn't  know  such 


THE    PORTAL    OF    THE    HEART       73 

a  place  as  the  East  End  existed.  Now,  it  is  some- 
thing like  the  days  of  John  Wesley.  I  shouldn't 
be  surprised  to  see  my  son,  Lord  Fermor,  going 
around  bare-footed  in  a  brown  habit  with  a  straw 
rope  around  his  waist." 

"  Has  Lord  Fermor  any  ascetic  leanings  ?  "  asked 
Theodora  in  good  faith. 

"  Oh,  Lord,  no !  Not  that  ever  I  heard,  only  this 
is  the  age  of  extremists  and  of  everybody  med- 
dling with  everybody  else's  business.  I  am  a  re- 
actionary. I  don't  believe  in  A  and  B  deciding  be- 
tween themselves  that  C  shall  assume  the  moral  and 
financial  responsibility  for  D." 

"  That  is  not  my  father's  way,"  replied  Madame 
Fontarini,  laughing ;  "  he  himself  shoulders  A,  B, 
C,  and  D  without  asking  any  one  to  help  him." 

"  Then  I  consider  Mr.  Seymour  may  be  classed 
as  a  dangerous  person  and  an  enemy  of  society.  If 
he  carries  out  these  practices  at  King's  Lyndon  I 
shall  have  Longstaffe  burned  over  my  head  by  the 
farm  labourers  because  I  will  not  do  like  Mr.  Sey- 
mour. By  the  way,  I  think  you  will  like  King's 
Lyndon — that  is,  if  you  like  the  country." 

"  I  love  the  country,"  answered  Theodora. 

"  So  do  I,  when  I  can  get  enough  people  from 
town  down  there  to  make  me  feel  that  London  is 
not  so  far  away,  after  all.  Are  you  reading  this?" 
He  picked  up  from  the  table  the  volume  of  Amiel 
which  Theodora  had  been  reading. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied. 


^74      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  Old  Montaigne  is  a  better  man  to  read  than 
Amiel,  and  Voltaire  best  of  all.  Forty  years  ago  I 
would  have  been  chased  out  of  a  London  drawing- 
room  for  saying  so  much,  but  now  the  ladies  have 
invaded  our  libraries,  just  as  they  have  the  smok- 
ing-room." 

"My  reading  is  not  very  profound,"  said  Ma- 
dame Fontarini.  "  I  read,  as  I  suppose  all  women 
do,  to  find  out  in  books  some  reflection  of  my  own 
mental  and  moral  portrait." 

"  My  dear  lady,  you  are  much  too  candid ;  you 
will  never  be  able  to  pass  as  a  superior  person  as 
long  as  you  say  things  like  that." 

"What  is  a  superior  person?" 

"  My  sister,  Lady  Susan  Battle,  for  example.  She 
married  a  Birmingham  man  with  five  daughters, 
and  Susan  labours  in  the  London  season,  and  out  of 
the  London  season,  to  get  those  girls  married." 

Madame  Fontarini  looked  shocked;  she  was  not 
yet  fully  accustomed  to  the  English  frankness  con- 
cerning marriage.  Lord  Castlemaine  saw  this  and 
laughed.  Madame  Fontarini,  with  her  distinction 
of  bearing,  if  not  actual  beauty,  and  her  father's  for- 
tune, would  perhaps  not  understand  either  the  diffi- 
culty or  the  necessity  of  marrying  off  the  five  plain 
Battle  girls,  each  with  ten  thousand  pounds  to  her 
fortune.  He  continued,  much  amused  at  the  uncon- 
scious amazement  which  shone  in  Madame  Fontarini's 
eyes. 

"  It  would  be  easy  enough  to  get  young  stock- 


THE    PORTAL    OF    THE    HEART       75 

brokers  and  rising  barristers  for  those  girls,  but  my 
sister  Susan  is  ambitious.  She  wants  all  her 
step-daughters  to  marry  the  eldest  sons  of  dukes. 
For  some  occult  reason  she  thinks  that  I  could  bring 
it  about,  and  regards  me  as  a  brute  because  I  don't. 
You  must  know  Lady  Susan — excellent  person.  I 
will  make  her  call  on  you." 

Just  then  the  door  was  opened  and  Marsac  was 
announced.  He  seated  himself,  and  demanded  tea 
and  silence,  while  he  told  a  thrilling  tale. 

"  This  afternoon  I  demanded  liberty  of  my  chief, 
who  would  have  kept  me  at  the  Embassy.  I  re- 
volted when  Madame  Marsac  would  have  shut  me 
up  in  a  brougham  and  taken  me  around  to  pay 
duty  calls.  I  said,  '  No,  I  go  to  Madame  Fonta- 
rini's  to  pour  out  my  soul  to  her.'  Madame  Marsac 
accepted  this  meekly,  seeing  a  furious  determination 
in  my  eye.  I  have  met  a  couple  of  Americans — 
not  Anglo-Americans,  nor  Franco-Americans,  nor 
any  other  hyphenated  Americans,  but  the  unadul- 
terated Americans." 

"  How  lucky,"  murmured  Theodora. 

"  It  was  in  the  train  coming  up  from  Brighton, 
day  before  yesterday.  A  young  man  got  in — un- 
mistakably American — also  his  sister,  Dot.  Dot 
is  about  six  feet  tall,  with  glorious  black  eyes,  wide 
apart,  superb  teeth,  such  as  you  Americans  affect — 
I  understand  that  Americans  are  in  the  hands  of 
dentists  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Dot,  how- 
ever, was  charming,  that  I  must  admit,  and  ordered 


76      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

her  brother  around  with  a  Napoleonic  air — also,  the 
common  heritage  of  the  American  woman.  The  young 
man,  Wyndham,  I  soon  found  out  was  a  journalist, 
and  as  I  have  always  yearned  after  my  early  pro*- 
fession,  I  began  to  talk  with  him.  And  Dot  imme- 
diately hurled  herself  into  the  conversation.  They 
were  a  brother  and  sister  travelling  in  Europe,  with 
oceans  of  money  to  spend.  The  rich  journalist, 
you  know,  is  also  peculiar  to  America.  "  Dot,  who 
is  only  eighteen,  and  who  has  not  yet  been  presented 
to  society,  appears  to  be  in  charge  of  her  brother, 
who  is  about  thirty.  Wyndham  spoke  the  American 
language  in  all  its  purity.  He  had  been  in  Paris 
and  had  met  a  number  of  French  journalists  there. 
I  asked  him  if  he  felt  at  home  among  them,  to  which 
he  replied: 

"  '  No,  I  felt  like  a  ham  sandwich  at  a  Jew  picnic.' 
"  Dot  promptly  reproved  her  brother ;  she  herself 
spoke  a  delightful  mixture  of  English  and  Ameri- 
can. The  curious  part  of  it  was  that  I  understood 
every  word  and  phrase  of  the  American  language. 
For  instance,  when  Wyndham  told  me  that  a  certain 
banking  concern  had  *  busted,'  I  comprehended  at 
once.  Dot  reminded  her  brother  that  he  should 
say  'bursted,'  but  Wyndham  replied  that  the  best 
authorities  agreed  that  the  '  r '  in  bursted  was  su- 
perfluous, and  *  busted '  was  the  classic  form  of 
the  word.  I  had  never  understood  so  fully  what  is 
called  the  Oriental  spaciousness  of  the  American 
mind,  until  I  talked  with  Wyndham." 


THE    PORTAL   OF    THE    HEART       77 

"  I  am  always  delighted  to  hear  my  country- 
people  praised,"  said  Theodora. 

"Living  in  England  is  the  crumpled  rose  leaf 
in  your  fate,"  remarked  Lord  Castlemaine. 

"  I  was  so  fascinated,"  continued  Marsac,  "  with 
Wyndham  and  Dot,  who,  by  the  way,  was  exquis- 
itely dressed,  like  all  the  rest  of  your  country  women 
that  I  have  ever  met,  Madame,  that  I  gave  Wynd- 
ham my  card.  He  handed  me  his  in  return.  He  and 
Dot  are  stopping  at  one  of  the  swellest  London 
hotels.  Dot  has  neither  maid  nor  chaperon,  but  ap- 
pears entirely  superior  to  both.  Wyndham,  it  seems, 
has  very  good  letters  of  introduction,  and  the  two 
have  been  to  some  excellent  houses.  Imagine  my 
pleasure,  when,  last  night,  at  a  great  dinner  given 
by  the  editor  of  a  big  London  newspaper,  I  found 
Wyndham  and  Dot  on  hand.  Dot  wore  a  magnifi- 
cent gown,  which  Madame  Marsac  admired  so  much 
I  fear  it  has  wrecked  my  domestic  peace  for  ever, 
and  was  aglitter  with  diamond  brooches  and  pins, 
and  things  all  over  her.  In  the  drawing-room 
before  dinner,  Dot  engaged  in  conversation  with  a 
member  of  parliament  and  a  retired  major  general. 
Her  aplomb  was  perfect.  She  looked  thoroughly 
disgusted  when  she  was  handed  over  to  a  nice  boy, 
Jack  Thornycroft,  to  be  taken  down  to  dinner;  I 
think  she  expected  the  member  of  parliament,  at 
least." 

"  My  sister,  Lady  Susan  Battle,  was  there,"  said 
Lord  Castlemaine,  laughing.  "  She  had  with  her 


78      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Jane,  her  eldest  step-daughter,  who  really  is  not 
so  bad,  after  all." 

"  I  saw  Lady  Susan  and  Mr.  Battle  and  the 
young  lady.  I  have  the  honour  of  their  acquaint- 
ance," replied  Marsac. 

"  Lady  Susan  was  raging  this  morning  be- 
cause your  friend,  Dot,  was  given  to  the  Thorny- 
croft  boy,  who  is  the  eldest  son  of  a  baronet.  Lady 
Susan  likes  eldest  sons." 

Marsac,  demanding  a  second  cup  of  tea,  pro- 
ceeded : 

"  The  boy  appeared  to  succumb  immediately  to 
Dot's  black  eyes  and  brilliant  smile,  and  loftily  su- 
perior manner.  Meanwhile,  my  friend  Wyndham, 
who  had  taken  Miss  Battle  down,  seemed  equally 
charmed  with  her." 

Lord  Castlemaine  chuckled  at  this,  without  men- 
tioning what  amused  him ;  the  notion  of  Lady  Su- 
san with  an  American  son-in-law  would  have  made  a 
graven  image  smile. 

" 1  should  like  very  much  to  know  my  interesting 
compatriots,"  said  Madame  Fontarini.  "  I  should 
be  glad  if  Mr.  Wyndham  would  call  to  see  me." 

"  What  an  amusing  people  you  are,  after  all !  " 
cried  Lord  Castlemaine.  "You  never  saw  or  heard 
of  these  people  before,  yet,  with  your  American  so- 
cial recklessness,  you  are  ready  to  rush  into  an 
acquaintance  with  them.  Marsac,  of  course,  is  an 
outlaw  and  prides  himself  on  knowing  all  the  knife- 
grinders  and  rat-catchers  in  town." 


THE    PORTAL    OF    THE    HEART       79 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  known  and  liked  Marsac 
for  twenty  years  and  they  often  sharpened  their 
wit,  one  upon  the  other. 

"  But  you  can't  expect  so  much  conservation  of 
us,  as  of  you,"  answered  Madame  Fontarini.  "  I 
am  willing  to  take  M.  Marsac's  word,  for  both  Mr. 
Wyndham  and  his  sister  Dot,  and  what  is  more 
natural,  than  that  exiles  as  we  are,  my  father  and 
I,  we  should  be  eager  to  meet  some  of  our  own 
country-people  ?  " 

Lord  Castlemaine,  amused  and  incredulous,  shook 
his  head. 

"  I  have  long  ago  come  to  the  conclusion,"  he 
said,  "  that  no  one  born  in  a  monarchy  can  under- 
stand one  born  in  a  republic;  and  no  one  born  in  a 
republic  can  understand  one  born  in  a  monarchy. 
Your  country-people,  my  dear  Madame  Fontarini, 
are  full  of  quaint  surprises,  and  that  is  what  makes 
you  so  charming." 

The  visit  of  Lord  Castlemaine  and  Marsac  was 
long  and  agreeable,  and  when  Lord  Castlemaine 
rose  to  leave  he  insisted  that  Marsac  should  go,  too, 
declaring  he  could  not  leave  his  reputation  in  Mar- 
sac's  hands.  The  two  went  down  the  staircase 
arm  in  arm,  laughing  and  chaffing  each  other. 
Madame  Fontarini's  parting  injunction  to  Marsac 
was  to  be  sure  and  bring  Wyndham  and  Dot  to 
call. 

The  mental  exhilaration  produced  by  the  con- 
versation with  two  such  men  as  Lord  Castlemaine 


80      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

and  Marsac  lifted  Theodora  out  of  her  mood  of 
loneliness  and  despondency.  She  did  not  return  to 
her  book,  but  taking  up  her  violin  played  a  soft  lit- 
tle air  upon  it,  as  she  walked  up  and  down  the  large 
room. 

The  afternoon  was  closing  in  and  a  little  fire  on 
the  hearth  threw  a  red  light  upon  her  graceful 
figure  and  trailing  gown  of  pale  yellow.  She  did 
not  hear,  upon  the  thickly  carpeted  staircase,  the 
step  of  the  footman  who  escorted  Lord  Fermor  to 
the  door,  nor  even  the  first  announcement  of  his 
name.  Fermor  had  a  good  view  of  her  for  half  a 
minute  as  she  stood  drawing  her  bow  with  a  long 
graceful  motion  over  the  strings.  She  showed  no 
surprise  at  his  entrance,  but  laying  down  her  violin, 
greeted  him  with  perfect  ease. 

One  of  the  things  which  Fermor  disliked  most  in 
his  social  life  was  the  rapture  with  which  he,  the 
prospective  heir  to  an  earldom,  was  received  in  a  Lon- 
don drawing-room.  He  also  rebelled  against  the 
strange  convention  of  English  society,  by  which  an 
eligible  bachelor  is  practically  forbidden  to  pay  the 
smallest  civility  to  an  unmarried  woman  without 
having  his  intentions  eagerly  canvassed.  He  recog- 
nised instantly  that  Madame  Fontarini,  composed 
and  unaffected,  was  neither  embarrassed  nor  elated 
at  his  visit.  She  offered  him  a  cup  of  tea  and  Fer- 
mor, for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  felt  himself  en- 
tirely at  ease  when  alone  with  a  lady  who  might 
consider  him  a  desirable  parti. 


THE    PORTAL    OF    THE    HEART       81 

"  Lord  Castlemaine  was  kind  enough  to  call  to 
see  me  this  afternoon,"  said  Theodora,  following  a 
short  pause. 

"  So  I  know,"  replied  Fermor.  "  I  was  in  the  act 
of  coming  myself,  when  I  saw  my  father  leaving  the 
house,  and,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  have  a  collision,  I 
postponed  my  visit  until  his  was  over." 

Then  Theodora,  busying  herself  with  the  tea- 
cups, explained  to  Fermor,  as  she  had  explained  to 
Lord  Castlemaine,  the  reasons  for  her  father's  ab- 
sence, and  Fermor,  like  Lord  Castlemaine,  was  se- 
cretly surprised.  Something  in  the  atmosphere  and 
soft  firelight,  the  vast  silent  house,  made  their  con- 
versation grow  personal  and  almost  intimate,  from 
the  beginning.  Lord  Fermor  spoke  of  King's  Lyn- 
don, saying: 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  that  the  place  will  be  in  the 
hands  of  persons  who  will  maintain  it  as  it  should 
be.  It  has  been  a  regret  to  me  to  see  it  going  to 
rack  and  ruin,  and  it  was  not  in  my  father's  power 
to  restore  it." 

Madame  Fontarini,  with  her  woman's  wit,  dis- 
cerned in  Fermor's  guarded  word  that  he  was  at- 
tached to  King's  Lyndon,  and  giving  it  up  perma- 
nently would  be  to  him  a  sacrifice,  necessary,  it  is 
true,  but  none  the  less  painful. 

"  I  was  charmed  with  the  place  when  I  saw  it," 
she  said.  "  My  father,  of  course,  insisted  that  I 
should  see  it  before  he  leased  it,  so  I  went  down  with 
him  and  we  spent  the  day  there." 


82      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  Wonderful  are  American  fathers,"  thought 
Fermor. 

"  I  believe  in  restoration,  but  not  changes,"  con- 
tinued Madame  Fontarini.  "  We  concluded  to  live 
in  the  west  wing.  There  is  a  charming  little  draw- 
ing-room, opening  on  the  terrace,  and  I  determined 
that  it  should  be  mine.  Everything  in  it  pleased  me 
and  I  shall  have  it  restored  exactly  as  it  was  origin- 
ally." 

"  That  was  my  mother's  morning  room,"  answered 
Fermor.  "  She  died  when  I  was  a  little  chap,  only 
five  years  old,  and  my  only  recollection  of  her  is 
sitting  in  that  room  and  walking  up  and  down  the 
terrace,  holding  me  by  the  hand.  King's  Lyndon  came 
to  us  through  my  mother.  Longstaffe,  our  other 
place,  is  only  ten  miles  off,  so  I  shall  ask  the  privi- 
lege of  paying  my  respects  to  you  when  you  are 
established  at  King's  Lyndon." 

"  It  will  give  my  father  and  me  much  pleasure, 
and  I  hope  we  shall  be  good  neighbours." 

Then  the  conversation  turned  upon  Rome.  Theo- 
dora spoke  readily  in  general  terms  of  Roman  life, 
font  sedulously  avoided  any  allusion  to  her  own  un- 
happy Roman  experience.  Fermor,  pleased  and 
soothed  as  men  are  by  a  sympathetic  woman,  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  Lord  Castlemaine's  sug- 
gestion concerning  Madame  Fontarini  was  far 
from  preposterous.  He  was  wearied  and  scepti- 
cal concerning  what,  in  his  own  life,  women  had 
called  their  love  for  him,  and  thought  when 


THE    PORTAL   OF   THE    HEART       83 

he  married  he  would  rather  like  the  arrange- 
ment to  be  one  of  friendship  and  suitability.  The 
French  plan  had  always  seemed  to  him  rather  more 
promising  of  happiness  than  the  English  plan. 
He  felt  tolerably  sure  that  if  a  woman  possessed 
enough  of  charm,  of  breeding,  of  intelligence,  to 
make  him  willing  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  with 
her,  she  would  in  the  end  become  mistress  of  his 
heart.  Girls  had  been  thrown  at  his  head,  as  they 
are  at  the  heads  of  all  men  in  England  of  Fermor's 
rank.  This  is  a  thing  universally  detested  by  all 
men,  but  most  of  all  by  Fermor. 

Madame  Fontarini,  with  her  attraction  of  person 
and  fortune,  would  have  a  large  choice  in  marriage, 
and  Fermor,  while  listening  to  her  tea-table  talk,  so 
different  from  that  of  the  Englishwoman,  was  think- 
ing it  was  certainly  much  more  flattering  to  be 
chosen  from  others  by  a  woman  like  Madame  Fon- 
tarini, than  to  become  the  quarry  of  a  man-chasing 
mother  and  daughter.  In  the  midst  of  their  quiet 
talk  fell  a  bomb. 

"Will  you  pardon  me  for  asking,"  said  Madame 
Fontarini,  "  if  the  lady  with  whom  I  saw  you  talking 
at  Patersham  House  is  Mrs,  Bellenden,  of  Chester 
Street?" 

Fermor  put  down  his  tea  cup,  and,  schooled  though 
he  was,  Theodora  saw  unmistakable  surprise  on  his 
part. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  briefly. 

"I  meant  to  ask  the  question  of  M.   Marsac," 


84      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

said  Theodora,  with  a  frank  smile,  "  but  forgot 
it.  I  have  met  Mrs.  Bellenden  several  times  in  driv- 
ing, and  she  has  always  stared  at  me,  I  think  most 
disagreeably.  You  may  imagine  my  surprise  when 
to-day  she  left  cards  upon  me.  I  was  not  at  home 
and  did  not  see  her,  but  I  questioned  the  servant, 
and  there  is  no  doubt  the  visit  was  meant  for  me.  I 
shall  leave  my  card  on  her,  but  I  don't  intend  to  be- 
gin a  visiting  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Bellenden. 
Her  air  is  very  insolent." 

Fermor  was  silent  and  Madame  Fontarini  con- 
tinued, laughing  as  she  spoke: 

"  I  see  you  are  quite  shocked  at  my  mentioning 
Mrs.  Bellenden's  name.  Nobody  ever  mentions 
names  in  England,  but  remember  I  am  an  American 
and  have  been  in  England  only  a  little  while,  and 
many  things  are  still  strange  to  me." 

Fermor  grasped  in  an  instant  Mrs.  Bellenden's 
motive,  for  the  mere  fact  that  Madame  Fontarini 
lived  in  the  next  house  to  Castlemaine  House  and 
would  preside  over  King's  Lyndon,  certainly  for  the 
next  six  months,  was  enough  to  start  rumors,  which 
Mrs.  Bellenden  had  heard  or  isurmised.  It  was 
hateful  to  Fermor  that  he  could  not  keep  wholly  clear 
of  Flora  Bellenden.  He  felt  a  strong  desire  to  warn 
Madame  Fontarini  against  Mrs.  Bellenden,  but  he, 
of  all  men,  could  least  do  that.  The  silence  was 
becoming  awkward,  when  the  sound  of  a  cab  stop- 
ping at  the  door  and  a  step  upon  the  pavement  was 
heard. 


THE    PORTAL    OF    THE    HEART       85 

"  That  is  my  father !  "  cried  Theodora,  rising 
and  going  to  the  window.  "  Major  Ashburton  is 
with  him.  You  may  know,"  she  said,  turning  to 
Fermor,  who  had  risen  also,  "  he  has  been  just  as 
much  interested  in  Barotti's  child  as  my  father." 

Nothing  could  surprise  Fermor  any  more  that 
afternoon,  not  even  the  deeply  affectionate  greet- 
ing between  Madame  Fontarini  and  her  father,  who 
entered  the  drawing-room  as  Fermor  was  about  to 
leave  it. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,"  cried  Seymour, 
shaking  hands  warmly  with  Fermor.  "  We  are 
neighbours  not  only  in  town,  but  shall  be  in  the 
country." 

And  then,  before  he  could  carry  out  his  inten- 
tion of  introducing  Ashburton  to  Fermor,  the  two 
men  greeted  each  other  like  old  friends. 

"  Come,"  cried  Theodora  to  her  father  and  Ash- 
burton, whom  she  was  sincerely  glad  to  see,  "  let 
me  give  you  some  tea,  and  hear  all  about  Barotti's 
boy,  and  your  own  heroism.  Papa,  I  have  had  a 
levee  this  afternoon,  Lord  Castlemaine  first,  and 
then  M.  Marsac,  Lord  Fermor,  Major  Ashburton 
and  yourself." 

She  showed  so  much  animation  that  Seymour  was 
delighted.  It  was  long  since  he  had  seen  her  so  in- 
terested. A  few  months  ago  she  would  have  refused 
with  languor  and  indifference  to  see  anyone. 

"  You  really  must  remain,"  said  Seymour,  in 
his  hearty  American  way,  to  Fermor,  and  Fermor 


86      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

for  the  first  time  in  his  life  sat  down  again  after 
making  his  adieux.  Seymour  and  Theodora  did 
most  of  the  talking.  Ashburton  was  naturally  a 
silent  man,  and  Fermor's  brain  was  still  busy  with 
the  annoyance  of  Mrs.  Bellenden's  visit. 

Barotti's  child  was  getting  quite  well,  with  every- 
thing done  for  him,  and  as  soon  as  the  boy  was 
able  he  was  to  be  taken  to  Bournemouth.  Seymour 
declared  he  had  quite  enjoyed  his  quarantine,  which 
had  been  mitigated  by  visits  from  Ashburton.  It 
was  plain  the  two  men  understood  each  other  well 
and  had  become  friends.  Quite  half  an  hour  passed, 
from  the  time  Seymour  and  Ashburton  arrived,  un- 
til Fermor  and  Ashburton  departed  together. 

A  family  Vidocq,  in  the  person  of  Lady  Susan 
Battle,  had  seen  from  her  own  drawing-room  win- 
dow, Fermor  enter  the  Seymour  house  and  leave 
it,  after  what  Lady  Susan  considered  a  scandalous 
length  of  time. 

"  It  is  all  settled,"  she  remarked  despairingly  to 
Jane.  "  There  is  not  even  a  chance  of  you  being 
bridesmaid  at  the  wedding,  because  widows  don't 
have  bridesmaids.  It  is  entirely  the  King's  fault 
and  he  will  have  a  heavy  reckoning  to  answer  for 
in  letting  the  best  matches  in  England  go  to  these 
Americans.  Of  course,  a  spoiled  minx,  as  this 
Madame  Fontarini  must  be,  can  never  get  along 
with  Fermor.  They  will  disagree  in  a  year,  and 
mark  my  words,  in  less  than  five  years  there  will 
be  a  separation  and  Fermor  will  not  be  five  thousand 


THE    PORTAL   OF    THE    HEART       87 

pounds  better  off  than  if  he  had  never  married  an 
American  fortune.  Then,  there  will  be  a  horrid 
scandal  and  it  will  reflect  upon  the  whole  family  con- 
nection, and  the  King  will  be  at  the  bottom  of  it.  I 
shall  not  hesitate  to  say  that  everywhere." 

Fermor,  however,  was  not  thinking  about  Amer- 
ican fortunes,  or  the  sins  of  King  Edward  VII.  He 
was  cursing  himself  and  Mrs.  Bellenden  from  the 
bottom  of  his  sincere  heart. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  PERPLEXITIES  or  LADY  SUSAN 

LADY  SUSAN'S  troubles  and  perplexities  concerning 
Americans  were  by  no  means  confined  to  Lord  Fer- 
mor  and  Madame  Fontarini,  but  came  even  nearer 
home.  With  a  suddenness  that  appalled  not  only 
Lady  Susan,  but  honest  Joshua  Battle,  Wyndham 
and  his  sister,  the  tall  beauty  who  went  by  the 
name  of  Dot,  seemed  to  become  inexplicably  en- 
tangled with  the  Battle  family. 

Nothing  would  have  induced  Lady  Susan  to  call 
on  Miss  Wyndham,  or  to  allow  her  in  the  splendid 
Battle  house,  but  destiny,  in  a  spirit  of  dread  play- 
fulness, arranged  that  the  Battles  and  the  Wynd- 
hams  should  meet  six  days  running,  at  different 
garden  parties,  at  flower  shows,  in  picture  galleries, 
at  Hurlingham,  and,  in  short,  it  seemed  that  Jane 
Battle  and  Wyndham  were  together  on  all  occasions. 

Lady  Susan's  idea  of  a  New  York  journalist  was 
an  individual  who  earned  something  like  two  pounds 
the  week,  and  was  purchasable  at  a  low  rate  by  any 
political  party.  Wyndham  dressed  well  and  lived  at 
a  good  hotel,  all  of  which  Lady  Susan  supposed  to 
be  acquired  by  nefarious  means.  When  she  discovered 
that  he  had  a  good  suite  of  rooms  at  a  first-class 
hotel,  she  at  once  concluded  that  the  hotel  gave  him 

88 


PERPLEXITIES    OF    LADY    SUSAN     89 

his  living  free  in  order  to  get  the  advertising.  Dot's 
gowns  and  hats,  which  were  really  works  of  art, 
Lady  Susan  concluded  were  got  by  the  same  means, 
and  she  easily  convinced  herself  that  Wyndham 
and  his  sister  were  a  couple  of  dangerous  adven- 
turers, from  whom  her  flock  of  step-daughters  should 
be  rigidly  guarded.  She  was  scarcely  surprised 
when  at  a  very  large  and  smart  garden  party,  the 
first  persons  she  saw  were  Wyndham  and  Dot. 
Lady  Susan  turned  a  warning  eye  upon  Jane,  who 
had  been  previously  notified  to  keep  Wyndham  at 
bay  if  possible.  Jane  honestly  meant  to  obey,  but 
she  had  no  way  of  avoiding  Wyndham  except  by 
frankly  running  away,  when  he  made  straight  to- 
ward her,  and  engaged  in  animated  conversation.  To 
make  the  matter  worse,  at  that  very  moment  Jack 
Thorny  croft  appeared  and  was  promptly  confiscated, 
according  to  Lady  Susan's  opinion,  by  Dot.  It  was 
plain,  however,  that  he  was  a  willing  captive  as  he 
walked  with  her  toward  the  tea  table.  He  was 
not,  however,  allowed  to  enjoy  his  prize  long,  for 
in  ten  minutes  Dot  had  left  him  absolutely  in  the 
lurch,  in  favour  of  an  Under  Secretary  of  State,  old 
enough  to  be  her  grandfather. 

Lady  Susan  turned  from  this  revolting  spectacle 
to  find  Wyndham  deep  in  conversation  with  Jane, 
When  Lady  Susan  made  a  prompt  and  determined 
sortie,  meant  to  rescue  Jane,  Wyndham  executed 
a  flank  movement,  by  which,  before  Lady  Susan 
knew  it,  she  was  seated  at  the  same  table  with  him 


90      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

and  Joshua  Battle's  eldest  born,  who  was  destined 
never  to  become  Countess  of  Castlemaine.  It  was1 
all  very  simple.  Wyndham,  who  was  by  nature  a 
strategist  of  the  first  order,  hailed  a  passing  waiter, 
found  a  little  table  in  the  greenest  and  coolest 
corner  of  the  garden,  and  carried  Jane  off  under 
Lady  Susan's  indignant  eye.  Then,  having  se- 
cured his  Sabine  prey,  he  returned  to  Lady  Susan, 
standing  wrathful  and  astonished  in  the  garden  walk, 
and  said  in  the  most  insinuating  manner: 

"  I  asked  for  tea  for  three,  and  it  is  there  on  the 
table.  Permit  me  to  escort  you." 

It  was  quite  impossible  that  Jane  should  be 
allowed  to  have  tea  alone  with  an  American  jour- 
nalist in  full  sight  of  the  smartest  people  in  London ; 
so  Lady  Susan  was  forced  to  go  with  Wyndham 
in  order  to  protect  her  step-daughter,  as  she  felt 
it  in  her  own  mind. 

By  way  of  preventing  Jane  from  being  beguiled 
by  this  handsome  and  oily-tongued  American,  for 
so  Lady  Susan  was  forced  to  admit  Wyndham  to 
be,  she  herself  took  charge  of  the  conversation. 

"  I  suppose  everything  in  England  is  very  new 
and  interesting  to  you,"  she  said  sternly. 

"  Very  interesting,"  replied  Wyndham,  "  but 
hardly  new,  as  I  have  been  here  fifteen  or  twenty 
times  before." 

"  Then,"  said  Lady  Susan  majestically,  "  you  must 
have  spent  the  best  part  of  your  life  here,  for  I 
see  you  are  still  a  young  man.'" 


PERPLEXITIES    OF    LADY    SUSAN     91 

"  Sometimes,"  said  Wyndham,  laughing,  "  I  have 
made  the  round  trip  between  London  and  New  York 
in  three  weeks." 

"Have  you  good  hotels  in  New  York?"  asked 
Lady  Susan. 

"  Pretty  fair,"  answered  Wyndham. 

Lady  Susan  then  making  some  inquiries  as  to 
the  population  and  resources  of  the  United  States, 
Wyndham  proceeded  to  give  her  a  rapid  statistical 
account  of  which  she  believed  not  one  single  word. 
Even  Jane,  with  innocent  eyes  fixed  on  Wyndham's 
mobile  and  expressive  face,  felt  a  faint  doubt  of  him 
when  he  wound  up  by  saying  that  the  United  States 
could  put  fourteen  millions  of  fighting  men  in  the 
field.  Could  it  be  that  Wyndham  was,  as  she  had 
heard  all  Americans  were,  a  braggart?  The  sus- 
picion carried  a  pang  to  Jane's  gentle  heart. 

There  was  triumph  in  Lady  Susan's  eye.  The 
statements  that  the  United  States  had  fourteen  mil- 
lions of  men  capable  of  bearing  arms,  and  had  one 
hundred  cities  each  with  over  a  hundred  thousand 
population,  were,  to  her,  gross  and  palpable 
lies,  like  the  Father  who  made  them  and  all  other 
lies. 

"  It  is  a  great  pity,"  said  Lady  Susan,  however, 
"  that  you  can't  get  decent  people  to  go  into 
politics  in  your  country." 

Wyndham  laughed  at  this. 

"  May  I  ask,"  he  said,  "  how  you  got  your  infor- 
mation ?  " 


92      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  From  several  Americans  who  live  in  England," 
responded  Lady  Susan  promptly. 

"  I  should  say,"  responded  Wyndham,  "  that  most 
expatriated  Americans  ought  to  be  in  jail." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  they  are  criminals  ?  "  cried 
Lady  Susan,  who  was  ready  to  believe  anything  of 
Americans. 

"  No,  I  didn't  say  they  could  be  put  in  jail,  I 
merely  said  they  ought  to  be  in  jail.  They  are  the 
disseminators  of  false  information  about  their  own 
country,  of  which  they  generally  know  very  little 
and  care  less." 

Then  Wyndham  turned  the  conversation  toward 
Jane  in  a  manner  which  Lady  Susan  thought  simply 
scandalous.  This  consisted  in  paying  the  girl  adroit 
compliments,  and,  what  was  really  alarming,  Jane 
seemed  to  like  them. 

Lady  Susan  rose,  determined  to  take  her  step- 
daughter out  of  such  dangerous  company,  but  she 
found  Wyndham  not  easily  thrown  over.  He  re- 
mained by  Jane's  side,  where  he  had  been  ever  since 
she  entered  the  garden.  This  meant,  in  the  eyes  of 
Lady  Susan  and  her  world,  but  one  thing,  that  the 
man  in  the  case  was  prepared  to  make  the  girl  an 
offer  of  marriage  at  the  first  convenient  season. 
Anything  more  horrifying,  Lady  Susan  could  not 
contemplate.  The  daughters  of  Joshua  Battle  would 
each  have  on  her  marriage  ten  thousand  pounds 
down,  a  sum  not  to  be  despised,  and  more  at  the 
death  of  their  father.  It  was  Lady  Susan's  am- 


PERPLEXITIES    OF    LADY    SUSAN     93 

bition  that  her  step-daughter  should  profit  by  their 
connection  with  the  house  of  Castlemaine.  But 
if  people  should  see  this  American  savage,  for  so 
Lady  Susan  reckoned  Wyndham  to  be,  whose  mother 
was  probably  a  chambermaid,  and  his  father  a 
bootblack,  it  would  be  enough  to  ruin  Jane's  pros- 
pects for  that  season,  if  not  for  ever.  The  one  thing 
left  was  to  take  Jane  away,  which,  Lady  Susan 
promptly  proceeded  to  do. 

Wyndham  escorted  them  to  the  carriage  and  bade 
them  a  cordial  farewell,  promising  to  send  Jane  a 
book  on  America  out  of  which  she  could  get  some 
facts,  instead  of  the  pipe  dreams,  as  he  called  them, 
which  prevailed  in  England  on  American  matters. 

Once  in  the  big  landau,  Lady  Susan's  wrath  ex- 
ploded. 

"  I  have  read  in  the  newspapers,"  she  said  in- 
dignantly to  Jane,  "  that  Americans  were  presump- 
tuous, and  now  I  know  it.  Anything  to  exceed  the 
presumption  of  that  young  man  I  have  never  seen 
in  my  life." 

"  He  did  not  do  anything,  mamma,  except  be 
civil  to  us,"  said  Jane  meekly.  Though  meek,  Jane 
was  not  timid.  She  liked  Wyndham  and  could  not 
be  terrorised  into  saying  she  did  not. 

"  Remember  this,  however,"  said  Lady  Susan,  in 
what  Lord  Castlemaine  irreverently  called  her 
parade-ground  voice,  "there  is  to  be  no  repetition 
of  what  occurred  this  afternoon.  It  was  most  detri- 
mental to  you,  my  dear,  from  every  point  of  view." 


94      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Jane  said  nothing.  Something  of  Wyndham's 
own  free  and  independent  spirit,  his  frankness,  his 
open  liking  for  her,  had  communicated  itself  to  her. 
The  germ  of  independence  was  stirring  in  her  gentle 
breast,  and  she  made  no  promises  to  keep  Wyndham 
at  a  distance.  To  her  clearer  understanding,  Wynd- 
ham's attentions,  although  far  more  significant  than 
he  supposed  them  to  be,  were  not  what  Lady  Susan 
understood  them. 

"  Mr.  Wyndhant  says,"  she  said  to  her  step- 
mother, as  the  carriage  rolled  through  the  Park, 
"  that  in  America  it  is  quite  natural  for  men  and 
girls  to  be  good  friends,  without  meaning  anything 
more.  I  think  it  must  be  very  pleasant  to  be  able 
to  know  an  agreeable  man  and  talk  with  him,  without 
anybody  remarking  upon  it,  or  wanting  to  know  if 
he  wishes  to  marry  one.  That  is  what  I  hate," 
cried  Jane,  with  sudden  courage.  "  If  people  would 
only  stop  talking  about  one!  Every  time  a  man 
looks  at  one  of  us,  people  are  wondering  whether  he 
knows  about  our  ten  thousand  pounds,  and  what 
kind  of  a  settlement  he  can  make,  and  if  the  match 
will  be  too  grand  for  our  father's  family,  or  not 
grand  enough  for  yours,  mamma." 

Lady  Susan  was  amazed.  The  modern  way  of 
a  girl  asserting  herself  was  very  painful  to  ladies 
of  the  early  Victorian  type,  and  Lady  Susan  felt 
it  her  duty  to  check  it.  Jane  had  always  been  so 
respectful,  so  admirable  a  step-daughter,  that  it  was 
hard  for  Lady  Susan  to  find  fault  with  her.  How- 


PERPLEXITIES    OF    LADY    SUSAN     95 

ever,  she  was  sternly  admonished  to  avoid  Wyndham 
in  future.  Jane  received  these  commands  in  silence, 
but  not  acquiescence. 

Next  morning  Jane  came  into  Lady  Susan's 
morning  room,  bringing  a  book. 

"  This  is  what  Mr.  Wyndham  sent  me  by  post 
this  morning,"  she  said.  "  It  is  all  about  America, 
and  I  have  looked  at  it  and,  really,  what  Mr.  Wynd- 
ham was  telling  us  yesterday  was  perfectly  true." 

Lady  Susan  examined  the  book  carefully  to  make 
sure  that  there  was  not  a  love  letter  concealed  among 
its  pages  of  statistics,  but  finding  nothing,  she  only 
remarked,  as  she  handed  it  back: 

"  Recollect,  Jane,  that  man  is  capable  of  any- 
thing. I  see  plainly  that  he  intends  to  ask  you  to 
marry  him  very  shortly,  and  you  must  make  him 
understand  when  he  forces  his  offer  upon  you  that  it 
cannot  be  considered  for  one  moment." 

"I  don't  think  he  means  to  make  an  offer,"  re- 
marked Jane,  blushing  deeply.  "  He  has  never  said 
anything  to  me  except  what  was  merely  friendly." 

At  that  moment  Lady  Susan's  attention  was  dis- 
tracted by  a  splendid  touring  car  stopping  in  front 
of  the  house,  from  which  descended  Dot,  while 
Wyndham  remained  seated  in  the  car.  There  was 
no  time  to  tell  the  footman  that  the  ladies  were  not 
at  home,  and  before  Lady  Susan  or  Jane  could  catch 
breath,  in  marched  Dot.  There  was  something 
splendid  and  overpowering  in  her  personality.  It 
was  not  the  soft,  seductive  charm  of  Madame  Fon- 


96      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

tarini,  who  had  known  sorrow  and  shame  and  loss, 
and  who  had  been  worsted  in  her  conflict  with  the 
world,  and  knew  its  cruel  power.  This  tall  young 
beauty,  so  far,  had  everything  her  own  way  and  had 
taken  the  world  by  storm.  She  swept  into  the  room'; 
her  dress  ruthlessly  elegant,  her  manner  determinedly 
affable. 

"  I  must  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said,  smiling,  while 
her  black  eyes  fearlessly  examined  Lady  Susan,  "  for 
presenting  myself  at  such  an  hour  of  the  morning, 
but  I  wish  to  engage  a  maid  who  has  given  you  as  a 
reference." 

Lady  Susan  was  staggered.  Hotel  rooms  and 
fine  clothes  and  even  automobiles  may  be  had  without 
payment,  if  used  as  advertisement,  so  Lady  Susan 
had  heard,  but  maids  could  not  be  had  without 
money,  and  what  use  could  the  sister  of  a  journalist 
have  for  a  maid  anyhow? 

Miss  Wyndham's  questions  concerning  the  maid 
would  have  done  credit  to  forty  instead  of  eighteen, 
in  their  comprehensiveness.  When  she  had  figura- 
tively turned  both  Lady  Susan  and  the  maid  inside 
out,  she  rose  to  go,  saying  to  Jane,  who  felt  that 
same  strange  affinity  with  this  beautiful  barbarian 
that  she  had  with  Wyndham  himself. 

"  It  was  so  nice  to  see  you  at  the  garden  party 
yesterday.  My  brother  was  perfectly  charmed  with 
you." 

Then  she  was  gone,  and  the  motor  car  whirled 
away  from  the  door  magnificently. 


PERPLEXITIES    OF    LADY    SUSAN     97 

"  Such  impertinence,"  gasped  Lady  Susan,  "  to 
intrude  herself  into  this  house !  No  doubt  she  wished 
an  invitation  to  call,  but  she  got  none." 

"  She  didn't  say  anything  that  looked  like  it," 
responded  Jane.  "Her  errand  was  quite  legiti- 
mate." 

Lady  Susan  glanced  suspiciously  at  Jane.  Was 
it  possible ?  No,  the  idea  was  not  to  be  enter- 
tained. 

Jane,  however,  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  men- 
tion she  had  said  to  Wyndham  that  on  the  present 
afternoon  she  was  going  to  an  exhibition  of  pictures 
in  Bond  Street,  and  Wyndham  had  intimated  he 
would  be  likely  to  want  to  see  those  identical  pic- 
tures himself. 

By  the  time  Lady  Susan  had  recovered  from  the 
shock  of  Wyndham's  attentions  the  day  before,  and 
Dot's  apparition  in  the  morning,  and  the  flock  of 
Battle  girls  had  chirped  and  twittered  over  Wynd- 
ham's attentions  to  Jane,  the  afternoon  came  and 
Lady  Susan  marshalled  her  step-daughters  to  the 
picture  show.  And  there,  towering  over  most  of  the 
men  present,  was  Dot,  radiantly  dressed,  and  her 
brother,  whose  sleek  dark  head  just  reached  her 
shoulder,  was  on  hand. 

Lady  Susan  tried  to  protect  Jane,  but  could  not 
prevent  a  subtle  interchange  of  remarks  between  her 
and  Wyndham,  which  was  dangerously  near  an  ap- 
pointment to  meet  later  in  the  week.  Wyndham 
boldly  inquired  where  Jane  would  be  found  on  the 


98      THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Saturday  afternoon,  and  Jane  promptly  replied 
that  she  would  be  at  Hurlingham. 

"  So  will  I,"  said  Wyndham,  looking  her  in  the 
eye  with  that  solemnity  which  Jane  had  discovered 
Americans  adopted  when  making  a  joke. 

At  the  end  of  ten  days,  Wyndham's  persecution  of 
Jane,  so  Lady  Susan  called  it,  compelled  her  to  lay 
the  matter  before  her  brother,  Lord  Castlemainc. 
She  had  laid  it  before  Joshua  Battle  at  the  rate  of 
three  times  a  day  during  the  whole  ten  days,  but  Mr. 
Battle  had  declared,  with  perfect  truth  and  candour, 
that  if  Lady  Susan  could  not  stop  the  affair,  cer- 
tainly he  could  not. 

Lady  Susan  then  called  upon  Lord  Castlemaine  to 
forbid  Wyndham  to  speak  to  or  look  at  Jane. 

"  Why  ? "  asked  Lord  Castlemaine,  laughing. 
"  With  five  unmarried  girls  on  your  hands  I  should 
think  you  would  hail  Wyndham's  advances." 

Lady  Susan  explained  that  Wyndham  was  prob- 
ably an  adventurer;  that  his  salary  could  hardly  be 
more  than  a  hundred  pounds  a  year;  that  he  no 
doubt  got  his  rooms  at  a  first-class  hotel,  his  clothes 
and  his  motor  as  advertisement ;  that  no  doubt  he 
was  after  Jane's  ten  thousand  pounds,  and,  worse 
than  all,  he  was  an  American. 

"  And  so  far,"  said  Lady  Susan  majestically, 
looking  full  at  Fermor,  who  was  present,  "  our  fam- 
ily has  escaped  an  American  connection.  I  should 
regret  very  much  if  the  first  introduction  of  that 
undesirable  element  should  occur  through  me." 


PERPLEXITIES   OF   LADY    SUSAN     99 

"  Oh  Lord !  "  said  Lord  Castlemaine.  "  Here  am 
I  doing  everything  I  can  to  introduce  an  American 
element  into  the  family  through  Madame  Fontarini 
and  Fermor." 

Fermor  took  this  allusion  with  great  outward 
calmness,  but  inwardly  he  rather  resented  that  any- 
thing so  delicate  and  intangible  as  the  feeling  which 
was  dawning  in  his  heart  toward  Theodora  should 
be  dragged  out  and  exhibited  in  Lord  Castlemaine's 
usual  fashion. 

"  American  money  may  be  useful  and  even  neces- 
sary in  some  cases,"  replied  Lady  Susan,  "but  not 
in  the  case  of  Mr.  Battle's  daughters." 

"  It  is  not  altogether  money,"  continued  Lord 
Castlemaine.  "  Madame  Fontarini  herself  counts  for 
a  good  deal  in  the  game.  She  does  not  look  like 
most  women.  I  like  that  black  hair  of  hers  done  up 
so  simply,  and  the  way  she  avoids  rings  and  chains 
and  earrings.  Besides,  she  is  a  very  interesting 
woman.  I  expect  to  keep  up  a  visiting  acquaintance 
with  her  when  she  is  established  at  King's  Lyndon, 
and  I  shall  go  to  her  garden  party  next  week.  All, 
of  course,  with  a  view  of  fostering  an  alliance  be- 
tween our  two  houses." 

Lord  Castlemaine  grinned  as  he  fired  this  last 
shot,  and  Fermor  rose. 

"  Really,"  he  said,  "  this  is  getting  too  personal 
for  a  bashful  man  like  myself.  I  feel  obliged  to 
leave." 

Then,  by  way  of  finishing  up  Lady  Susan  and  the 


100    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

conversation  at  the  same  time,  Lord  Castlemaiiie 
remarked : 

"  The  only  difficulty  in  the  way  is  whether  Ma- 
dame Fontarini  will  take  Fermor  or  not,  and  whether 
an  alliance  with  the  house  of  Castlemaine  is  good 
enough  for  her." 

This  sentence  acted  exactly  as  Lord  Castlemaine 
wished,  and  reduced  Lady  Susan  to  amazed  and  in- 
dignant silence. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WEAVING  AND  UNWEAVING 

IT  was  now  late  in  June,  and  the  season  gained  im- 
petus as  it  rushed  toward  its  conclusion. 

Theodora  and  her  father  were  eager  to  get  away 
from  town,  but  King's  Lyndon  had  been  suffered  to 
fall  into  such  decay  that  workmen  were  necessary 
to  make  even  one  wing  fairly  comfortable.  Theo- 
dora had  been  sufficiently  roused  from  her  sadness 
to  go  out  a  little  into  society,  but  not  enough  to, 
open  the  splendid  town  house  and  entertain  as  her 
father  would  have  wished.  She  agreed,  however, 
to  give  a  small  party  in  the  spacious  garden  at  the 
back  of  the  mansion,  and  at  this  evidence  of  her 
renewed  interest  in  life  Seymour  rejoiced. 

When  Madame  Fontarini  made  out  her  list  of 
invitations,  she  smiled  slightly  at  some  of  the  names. 
Major  Ashburton,  she  particularly  wished  to  come. 
There  was  something  in  him  which  to  her  sensitive 
mind  gave  dignity  to  any  company  in  which  he  ap- 
peared. But  she  knew  instinctively  that  he  did  not 
often  go  to  garden  parties,  and  in  sending  him  a 
card  she  wrote  a  pretty  little  note  besides.  She 
felt  a  secret  desire  that  Fermor  should  come,  and  an 
inward  conviction  that  he  would  be  there. 

In  looking  over  her  visiting  book,  she  found  the 

101 


102     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

name  of  Mrs.  Bellenden.  Theodora  glanced  at  it, 
and  then  with  her  small  firm  hand  drew  a  line 
through  the  name.  She  had  heard  nothing,  and 
knew  nothing  of  Mrs.  Bellenden,  except  the  im- 
pertinence of  her  stare,  and  her  unexpected  visit. 
Madame  Fontarini  had  returned  the  visit  upon  a 
day  other  than  the  one  named  on  Mrs.  Bellenden's 
card,  and  within  ten  minutes  of  having  seen  Mrs. 
Bellenden  driving  in  the  Park.  This  species  of 
snub,  known  only  to  women  and  diplomats,  but  per- 
fectly understood  by  them,  was  quite  intelligible  to 
Mrs.  Bellenden,  but  she  did  not  so  well  understand 
the  person  with  whom  she  was  dealing.  She  classi- 
fied Madame  Fontarini  as  a  woman  accustomed  to 
primitive  social  conditions,  which  Mrs.  Bellenden 
thought  prevailed  in  America,  and  as  a  person  who 
could  be  intimidated.  She  would  go  again  to  the 
house  in  Queen's  Gate,  and  take  her  chances  of 
getting  in. 

Not  once  had  she  seen  Fermor  except  to  bow  to 
him  from  her  carriage,  since  their  parting.  Two 
or  three  times  Tom  Bellenden  had  asked  her  what 
had  become  of  Fermor,  and  to  this  Mrs.  Bellenden 
replied  readily  that  she  supposed  Fermor  was  of- 
fended with  her  because  she  had  spoken  rather  freely 
concerning  Madame  Fontarini,  and  it  was  said  that 
Lord  Castlemaine  not  only  meant  to  sell  King's 
Lyndon  to  Seymour  at  a  high  price,  but  to  sell  Fer- 
mor's  rank  as  well. 

"  It  seems  to  me?"  said  Bellenden,  in  his  slow  fash- 


WEAVING    AND    UNWEAVING        103 

Ion,  "  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  Fermor  to  marry 
and  go  into  public  life.  I  noticed  he  has  been  rest- 
less for  a  long  time.  I  am  sorry,  however,  that  you 
and  he  have  fallen  out." 

It  was  on  that  same  afternoon  that  Mrs.  Bellen- 
den  determined  to  repeat  her  visit  to  Madame  Fon- 
tarini.  A  number  of  carriages  and  motors  were  in 
the  street,  but  there  were  other  houses  open  besides 
Madame  Fontarini's,  and  the  season  was  coming 
down  the  home  stretch. 

The  great  doors  opened  at  Mrs.  Bellenden's  ap- 
proach, and  she  was  invited,  somewhat  to  her  sur- 
prise, through  the  ground  floor  suite  and  into  the 
great  green  garden  beyond.  It  was  very  beauti- 
ful, as  even  a  city  garden  may  be  when  there  is 
openness  and  space.  Against  the  rose-red  walls 
were  rows  of  dwarf  trees,  gladiolus  and  oleanders  in 
tubs,  while  great  masses  of  azaleas  and  other  splen- 
did flowering  plants  made  a  riot  of  colour.  In  the 
midst  of  the  green  expanse  of  velvet  turf  stood 
Madame  Fontarini  and  Seymour,  receiving  their 
guests. 

Mrs.  Bellenden  realised  at  once  that  she  was  an 
uninvited  guest,  but  the  policy  of  rashness  was  hers. 
She  advanced  through  the  groups  of  gaily  dressed 
women  and  more  men  than  she  had  ever  seen  at  a 
garden  party  before,  to  Theodora,  and  made  an 
explanation. 

"  I  came  to  pay  you  a  visit,"  she  said,  smiling, 
"  and  I  see  you  are  having  a  party." 


"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,"  replied  Theodora, 
but  in  her  voice  was  that  intonation  which  a  woman's 
ear  can  always  catch,  and  which  means,  "  Don't  do 
it  again." 

Seymour,  however,  with  overflowing  hospitality 
and  kindness  of  heart  assured  Mrs.  Bellenden  of 
their  great  pleasure  that  she  had  happened  in  at 
this  time,  and  no  doubt  a  card  had  been  sent  her 
which  she  had  not  received. 

Then,  Mrs.  Bellenden,  smiling  and  full  of  sharp 
curiosity,  glanced  about  her.  The  party  was  very 
distinguished,  there  was  no  question.  The  American 
Ambassador  and  Ambassadress  were  present,  and 
other  persons  of  the  first  fashion,  but  there  were 
also  persons  who  were  more  interesting  than  fash- 
ionable— Major  Ashburton,  for  example. 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  in  great  form,  and  Lady 
Susan  Battle,  in  a  splendid  purple  satin  gown  and 
loaded  with  jewels,  was  majestically  convoying 
Joshua  Battle,  who  followed  her  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance. Two  of  the  Battle  girls,  Jane  and  Sarah, 
were  in  her  wake,  and  Lady  Susan  had  found  it  im- 
possible to  keep  at  a  distance  Wyndham,  who  was 
one  of  the  first  to  arrive. 

Miss  Wyndham,  having  discovered  that  Mr. 
Battle  was  an  M.  P.,  had  descended  upon  him  in  all 
the  glory  of  her  nineteen  years,  and  a  gorgeous 
gown,  hat  and  parasol  fresh  from  the  Rue  de  la 
Paix,  and  was  proceeding  to  discuss  the  Educational 
Bill  with  him. 


WEAVING    AND    UNWEAVING        105 

Marsac  and  his  wife  were  there,  but  Mrs.  Bellen- 
den  had  no  mind  to  give  Marsac  another  chance  to 
repeat  what  she  considered  his  insolence  to  her. 

There  was  no  sign  of  Fermor.  Mrs.  Bellenden,  as 
an  accidental  guest,  made  her  visit  short.  It  has 
been  said  that  no  one  knows  pain  who  does  not  know 
jealousy.  Mrs.  Bellenden  was  familiar  with  that 
particular  pain.  She  had  the  yearning  of  the  primi- 
tive woman  for  luxury,  money,  clothes,  establish- 
ments, and  a  retinue  of  servants.  Here,  everything 
was  splendidly  and  perfectly  done,  as  who  could  not 
do  it  well  with  unlimited  wealth,  such  as  Mrs.  Bel- 
lenden thought  all  Americans  possessed? 

As  she  was  about  to  make  her  adieux,  Wyndham 
came  up  and  spoke  to  her.  He  rather  liked  Mrs. 
Bellenden's  striking  and  effective  style.  She  seemed 
to  him  as  primitive  in  her  way  as  Seymour  was  in  his. 
She  lived  an  artificial  life  in  a  natural  manner.  Mrs. 
Bellenden  was  not  averse  to  cultivating  Americans 
at  that  moment,  as  she  was  eager  to  find  out  if  pos- 
sible something  concerning  her  host  and  hostess. 
Therefore,  she  made  another  tour  of  the  garden 
with  Wyndham  after  having  said  her  farewells.  She 
was  full  of  interest  about  Wyndham's  profession, 
and  frankly  curious  to  know  how  he  could  afford  to 
live  in  the  way  he  did. 

"  That's  easy  enough,"  replied  Wyndham,  laugh- 
ing. "  You  see,  my  father  had  a  hand  in  what  is 
called  high  finance.  I  never  had  the  least  interest 
in  the  subject.  I  was  born  with  what  is  called 


106     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

a  nose  for  news.  At  the  University  I  edited  the 
student  journal,  and  fought  my  way  into  journal- 
ism afterward.  I  like  to  find  out  things.  Marsac, 
that  agreeable  French  fellow,  and  I  have  it  out 
about  three  times  a  week  on  the  subject  of  journal- 
ism. He  knows  nothing  about  American  journalism, 
and  I  know  nothing  about  French  journalism,  so 
you  may  imagine  we  go  round  in  a  circle  like  a 
squirrel  in  a  cage.  But  we  are  jolly  good  friends 
for  all  that." 

"  Are  you  finding  out  anything  in  England  this 
time?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bellenden,  turning  full  upon  him 
her  large  blue  eyes,  and  what  was  undoubtedly  a 
dazzling  smile. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Wyndham.  "  I  am  try- 
ing to  pick  up  the  thread  of  a  story  that  sounds  like 
what  you  call  a  *  shilling  shocker.'  Do  you  know 
what  a  '  trusty  '  is?  " 

Mrs.  Bellenden  shook  her  head  smilingly. 

"  Some  strange  American  thing,  I  imagine,"  she 
said. 

"  I  think  they  are  common  everywhere,"  replied 
Wyndham.  "  It  was  the  Spaniards  who  found  out 
this  system.  I  daresay  you  think  that  the  Span- 
iards never  found  out  anything.  Well,  they  had  the 
best  penal  system  as  well  as  the  best  system  of 
emancipation  of  slaves  that  the  world  ever  saw,  and 
they  knew  a  hundred  years  ago  that  tuberculosis 
was  a  communicable  disease.  You  see  I've  been  trav- 
elling in  Spain,  trying  to  find  out  about  the  *  trusties.' 


WEAVING    AND    UNWEAVING        107 

"  But  you  haven't  told  me  what  a  '  trusty'  is?  " 

"  It  is  a  convict  who  has  had  a  previous  good  rec- 
ord and  the  warden  of  the  jail  sends  him  out  on 
errands.  Of  course,  the  man  has  to  wear  ordinary 
clothes ;  if  he  wore  prison  clothes  he'd  be  jumped 
on  the  instant  he  got  out  of  the  jailyard.  They 
very  seldom  violate  their  liberty  because  they  are 
intelligent  enough  to  know  that  it  means  another 
term  in  prison.  But  in  the  case  of  my  '  trusty,'  he 
did  everything  according  to  contrary.  He  was  a 
model  prisoner,  who  was  serving  a  short  term  for 
manslaughter — hit  a  man  and  inadvertently  killed 
him.  Just  before  his  term  expired,  he  was  sent  one 
day  to  a  little  town  two  miles  off.  He  disappeared 
and  apparently  the  earth  opened  and  swallowed  him 
up.  If  a  *  trusty '  is  fifteen  minutes  behind  time  his 
absence  is  known,  and  so  the  hue  and  cry  was  raised 
immediately.  Now,  it  seems  that  friends  of  this 
man  had  been  working  for  his  pardon  with  the  Gov- 
ernor of  the  State,  and  the  pardon  came  just  four 
hours  after  the  man  disappeared." 

Wyndham  had  a  peculiarly  effective  and  dramatic 
way  of  telling  things,  and  Mrs.  Bellenden  stood 
still  at  the  foot  of  the  stone  steps  that  led  into  the 
garden,  and  leaned  upon  a  marble  vase  to  listen  to 
him. 

"  He  was  caught  in  the  end  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  although  he  did  the  very  thing  of  all  others 
most  likely  to  lead  to  his  detection.  At  the  end  of  a 
year  a  letter  came  from  him  somewhere  in  the  West, 


enclosing  a  sum  of  money  in  gold  to  the  warden  to 
be  given  to  aid  the  discharged  prisoners.  Every 
year  for  twenty  years  this  money  has  come,  and  of 
course  it  is  impossible  to  trace  gold  pieces.  For 
many  years  past  the  money  has  been  sent  from  vari- 
ous countries  in  Europe.  Then  a  vague  rumour 
grew  current  in  the  State  that  this  man  had  made  a 
great  pile  of  money.  I  became  interested  in  the 
yarn,  and  concluded  to  turn  myself  into  a  discov- 
erer, and  find  this  man  in  Europe,  as  Stanley  found 
Dr.  Livingston  in  Africa.  That  is  why  I  have  been 
in  Spain.  The  man  is  generally  regarded  as  the 
most  astute  of  escaped  prisoners,  but  my  theory 
is  exactly  the  contrary.  I  think  his  achievement 
is  altogether  beyond  that  of  the  professional  ab- 
sconder,  just  as  certain  great  lines  are  written, 
not  by  great  poets,  but  by  men  who  did  the  trick 
once,  but  knew  not  how  they  did  it,  and  could  not 
repeat  it.  I  think  that  the  man  is  entirely  without 
art,  and  that  his  success  in  keeping  out  of  the  way 
is  due  to  a  stupendous  fluke." 

"  How  very  interesting,"  murmured  Mrs.  Bellen- 


"You  are  the  first  person  who  said  so,"  replied 
Wyndham,  laughing.  "  I  have  the  reputation  of  be- 
ing the  greatest  bore  in  the  profession  on  the 
strength  of  my  Vidocq  story,  as  I  call  it.  The  men 
in  the  club  in  New  York  swore  to  have  me  turned 
out  if  I  mentioned  the  subject  again.  It  is  to  get 
even  with  these  fellows,  as  much  as  anything  else, 


WEAVING   AND   UNWEAVING        109 

that  I  want  to  produce  the  man  and  take  him  back 
in  handcuffs  to  America.  Every  rich  American  of 
respectable  appearance  whom  I  meet  in  Europe 
I  examine  carefully  to  see  if  it  is  my  man,  but  so 
far  he  has  eluded  me." 

Wyndham  felt  so  grateful  to  Mrs.  Bellenden  for 
listening  to  his  pet  story,  that  he  accepted  at  once 
an  invitation  she  gave  him  to  call.  As  Mrs.  Bel- 
lenden's  carriage  rolled  away  from  Seymour's  door, 
Lord  Fermor  entered  it.  This  was  not  a  pleasant 
sight  for  Mrs.  Bellenden. 


CHAPTER  IX 
KING'S  LYNDON  TELLS  ITS  STOEY 

Two  days  after  the  garden  party,  Seymour  and 
Theodora  found  themselves  at  King's  Lyndon.  On 
the  first  morning  that  Theodora  awoke  in  the  large 
airy  bedroom  with  its  two  great  windows  looking 
over  the  beautiful  but  unkempt  gardens,  the  green 
and  rolling  park,  she  felt  in  her  heart  a  sensation  of 
peace  and  rest,  which  she  had  scarcely  known  be- 
fore in  her  life.  Until  her  marriage  she  had  ever 
felt  restless  in  Europe,  yearning  to  return  to  Amer- 
ica, and  having  all  those  golden  illusions  which 
haunt  the  mind  of  a  young  girl  concerning  the  na- 
tive land  that  she  had  left  when  she  was  in  the  morn- 
ing glow  of  childhood. 

After  her  marriage  there  had  been  no  peace  or 
rest  for  Theodora,  and  among  the  things  hardest  for 
her  to  endure  from  Pietro  Fontarini  were  the  insults 
he  lavished  upon  his  wife's  country  and  country- 
people. 

In  the  first  overwhelming  years  of  her  grief  over 
the  death  of  her  child,  places  mattered  nothing  to 
her.  Within  the  last  year  or  two  the  desire  to  re- 
turn to  America  had  stirred  strongly  within  her, 
but  it  was  the  one  wish  of  hers  that  Seymour  did 
not  try  to  gratify.  She  had  discovered  in  her 

110 


KING'S    LYNDON    TELLS    ITS    STORY     111 

father,  who  had  heretofore  seemed  unable  to  say 
nay  to  her,  a  fixed  determination  to  remain  in 
Europe.  The  determination  seemed  strange  to 
Theodora,  who  with  the  eyes  of  a  woman  of  thirty 
saw  that  Seymour  had  little  sympathy  with  any- 
thing European;  but  Seymour  for  once  declined  to 
gratify  a  wish  of  Theodora's. 

She  herself  being  given  to  thinking,  had  discovered 
that  there  is  an  impassable  gulf  between  the  Amer- 
ican and  the  monarchical  view  of  everything  from 
farcical  comedies  up  to  the  highest  theories  of  gov- 
ernment. Not  all  her  European  education  had  been 
able  to  eradicate  that  innate  haughtiness  of  republi- 
canism which  made  her  at  eighteen  unable  to 
feel  any  sense  of  elevation  when  she  was  admitted 
into  one  of  the  oldest  and  greatest  of  Roman  fam- 
ilies. It  was  that,  perhaps,  which  had  made  her  see 
Pietro  Fontarini  in  his  true  light  at  an  age  when 
a  European  girl  would  have  accepted  anything  at 
its  assessed  value.  Deep  in  Theodora's  heart  was 
a  sharp  sense  of  disappointment  when  she  realised 
that  her  life  must  henceforth  be  spent  in  an  alien 
land  and  among  strangers  who,  however  kind  to  her, 
would  yet  ever  be  strangers  and  aliens  to  her.  True, 
she  knew  of  no  relations  that  she  had  in  America, 
but  it  was  one  of  her  sweetest  dreams  that  could  she 
go  there  but  once,  she  would  find  a  family  connec- 
tion, people  of  her  own  blood,  from  whom  she  could 
claim  that  family  kindness  and  intimacy  which  she 
had  never  known  in  her  life.  Now  all  this  seemed 


impossible,  and  Theodora  thought,  as  she  lay  in  her 
large  canopied  bed  with  faded  red  silk  hangings, 
that  renunciation  of  this  dream  of  home,  perhaps 
had  brought  her  peace,  as  renunciation  often  brings. 
But  she  was  not  without  dreams. 

Later  in  the  morning,  when  Theodora  and  her 
father  walked  about  the  house  for  the  first  time 
with  a  sense  of  proprietorship,  she  felt  a  just  in- 
dignation against  Lord  Castlemaine.  The  picture 
gallery,  a  splendid  and  lofty  apartment  running  the 
full  length  of  the  house,  was  absolutely  bare.  The 
story  of  how  the  Romneys  and  Gainsboroughs,  and 
the  entire  accumulations  of  two  hundred  years,  had 
been  eaten  and  drunk  and  gambled  away,  on  horses, 
cards  and  stocks,  was  one  of  the  blackest  marks 
against  Lord  Castlemaine.  Seymour  spoke  of  this 
to  Theodora,  as  they  stood  together  in  the  great 
despoiled  gallery,  which  looked  as  if  an  army  of 
Goths  had  camped  there  over  night. 

"  This  will  be  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  whole 
thing  to  restore,"  said  Seymour.  "  I  don't  know 
anything  about  pictures,  but  I've  seen  enough  of 
them  in  Europe  to  know  that  objects  of  art  can't  be 
bought  like  potatoes.  What  shall  we  do,  my  dear?  " 

Theodora  shook  her  head. 

"  Let  us  go  outside,"  she  said,  "  and  think  about 
it." 

Nature  is  stronger  than  even  a  vandal  like  Lord 
Castlemaine,  and,  like  a  cunning  contriver,  had 
turned  even  neglect  to  her  own  advantage.  The 


KING'S    LYNDON    TELLS    ITS    STORY     113 

grass-grown  terrace,  the  weather-stained  statues,  the 
green  old  Italian  gardens  lying  in  the  stillness  of  a 
July  noon,  might  have  been  the  abode  of  the  princess 
who  lay  sleeping  for  ever.  There  were  many  dove- 
cotes about,  and  the  doves  stepped  with  a  kind 
of  timid  boldness  upon  the  balustrade  of  the  ter- 
race, and  broke  the  silence  with  their  soft  cooing. 

The  house  itself  was  a  copy  of  the  Little  Trianon 
in  white  free-stone.  At  the  back,  which  faced  the 
gardens,  was  a  long  balustraded  terrace  of  broken 
flags  upon  which  the  rooms  on  that  side  opened.  The 
tall  urns  were  empty  and  cracked,  and  a  Naiad 
stood  dry  and  forlorn  in  a  marble  basin  in  which  no 
water  swirled  and  danced.  Below,  stretched  a  noble 
vista  of  lawns  with  gardens  on  either  side.  At  the 
foot  of  the  lawns  lay  a  piece  of  ornamental  water, 
the  colour  of  the  wings  of  the  doves  that  tripped 
watchfully  on  the  terrace.  At  the  farther  end  the 
columns  of  a  small  Greek  temple  shone  against  the 
tall,  unkempt  yew  alleys,  in  which  there  was  a 
dim,  green  darkness  in  the  brightest  noon.  Upon 
the  water,  close  to  the  edge,  a  group  of  water  fowl, 
bent  on  grave  business,  moved  meditatively  back  and 
forth. 

The  peace  of  the  scene  entered  deeply  into  Theo- 
dora's soul.  The  place  had  been  ravaged  and  then 
let  alone.  It  bore  a  likeness  to  Theodora's  fate.  It 
could  be  restored  to  all  its  original  beauty,  the  love- 
lier because  of  its  mournful  history.  Theodora 
asked  herself  if  such  might  not  also  happen  to  her 


114    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

and  was  surprised  to  find  a  little  wave  of  hope 
surging  in  her  heart. 

As  far  as  the  interior  of  the  house  was  concerned, 
both  Seymour  and  Theodora  refrained  from  asking 
too  many  questions  and  looking  too  closely  into 
things.  The  care-taker,  who  might  also  be  called 
the  housekeeper,  was  Reyburn,  a  tall,  dark,  silent 
woman  who,  Theodora  speedily  recognised,  was  by 
no  means  the  usual  type  of  prim  English  upper 
servant.  Her  husband,  a  shoemaker  in  the  market 
town  of  Lyndon,  was  the  founder  and  leader  of  a 
socialist  club,  which  was  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  of  both 
political  parties  and  of  the  church  as  well  as  the 
state.  The  shoemaker  had  been  paralysed  in  his 
lower  limbs  and  plied  his  trade  and  preached  his 
doctrines  from  a  wheeled  chair — the  gift  of  Lord 
Fermor,  as  Reyburn  herself  promptly  informed 
Theodora. 

"My  husband,"  she  said  as  she  showed  Theodora 
over  the  ground  floor,  "  is  a  sober,  hard-working 
man,  and  makes  a  fair  living,  although  the  gentry 
and  the  townspeople  are  prejudiced  against  him  on 
account  of  his  being  a  socialist.  But  that  never 
has  made  any  difference  with  Lord  Fermor,  ma'am, 
and  I  must  say,  when  Lady  Susan  Battle  wanted 
Lord  Castlemaine  to  discharge  me  because  of 
my  husband's  club,  his  lordship  refused  to  do 
it." 

Theodora  found  that  this  usually  reticent,  elderly 
woman  could  talk  freely  enough  about  the  two  sub- 


KING'S    LYNDON    TELLS    ITS    STORY     115 

jects  nearest  her  heart — her  husband  and  Lord 
Fermor,  who  had  been  her  nursling. 

It  was  plain  that  Reyburn  had  a  complete  list  in 
her  mind  of  all  Lord  Castlemaine's  misdoings,  re- 
garding his  son  and  heir,  and  everything  else,  and 
revealed  as  much  as  she  could  within  her  limits.  At 
every  spot  from  which  a  piece  of  furniture,  a  pic- 
ture, an  ornament  had  been  ravaged,  she  would 
mention : 

"Lord  Castlemaine  sold  this  on  such  a  date,"  or 
"  His  lordship  removed  this  to  Castlemaine  House 
at  such  a  time." 

The  inspection  of  the  house  took  up  the  entire 
morning.  When  luncheon  was  over,  Theodora 
walked  up  and  down  with  her  father  on  the  long 
sunny  terrace.  Seymour  liked  his  cigar  in  the  open 
air,  and  it  was  Theodora's  custom  to  walk  with  him 
while  he  smoked. 

"  It  is  a  very  knotty  problem,"  he  said,  "  what  a 
man  may  do  with  certain  household  effects,  with  and 
without  the  consent  of  his  heir,  but  I  should  judge 
that  our  friend,  Lord  Castlemaine,  has  pretty  well 
looted  his  place,  with  or  without  the  consent  of  Lord 
Fermor,  and  I  should  say  that  it  was  an  infernal 
outrage." 

"  Imagine  you  looting  a  place  in  which  I  might 
be  supposed  to  have  some  rights,"  said  Theodora, 
slipping  her  arm  through  her  father's  and  laying 
her  cheek  against  his  shoulder.  "  You  would  be 
much  more  likely  to  loot  somebody's  else  place,  and 


116     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

supply  me  with  what  you  thought  I  fancied.  Thank 
Heaven,  I  have  you,  and  not  Lord  Castlemaine,  for 
my  father." 

"  One  thing  is  certain,"  continued  Seymour,  "  this 
place  can't  be  restored  in  a  month  or  perhaps  six 
months.  There  are  a  good  many  things  on  which 
I  should  like  very  much  to  have  Lord  Fermor's  opin- 
ion. He  probably  knows  how  it  was  originally,  but 
I  hardly  like  to  ask  him,  under  the  circumstances,  to 
give  me  his  assistance.  It  must  be  pretty  hard  lines 
for  him  to  come  here  at  all,  and  to  see  how  he  has 
been  robbed  of  his  patrimony." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Theodora,  "  it  must  be  hard." 

She  felt  an  inward  conviction  that  Fermor  had 
given  up  many  things,  not  from  weakness,  for  there 
was  no  indication  of  weakness  about  him,  but  in 
the  beginning  from  inexperience,  and  in  the  end 
from  the  disinclination  of  a  proud  man  to  engage 
in  a  sordid  controversy.  She  herself  had  given  up 
much  in  trying  to  avoid  sorded  controversies  with 
Pietro  Fontarini. 

When  Seymour  finished  his  cigar,  he  and  Theo- 
dora made  the  complete  tour  of  the  park.  Every- 
thing told  the  same  story  of  neglect  and  wreckage. 
The  park  was  completely  forsaken,  but  luckily  the 
price  of  timber  being  low,  little  of  it  had  been  felled, 
and  it  required  more  clearing  up  than  planting.  At 
every  step  the  necessity  for  a  reconstruction  of  the 
estate,  as  it  were,  became  more  obvious.  The  gen- 
eral aspect  of  things  presented  an  appearance  not 


KING'S   LYNDON    TELLS   ITS    STORY     117 

unlike  that  of  Lord  Castlemaine  himself.  They 
retained  all  the  evidences  of  original  beauty,  but 
so  battered  and  abused  that  it  was  plain  they  had 
been  at  war  with  circumstance. 

It  was  quite  tea  time  before  Theodora  and  her 
father  returned  to  the  house.  The  question  of  a 
housekeeper  was  uppermost  in  Theodora's  mind. 
The  London  housekeeper  had  been  left  behind  to  take 
care  of  the  town  house.  Theodora  and  her  father 
discussed  the  subject  during  their  walk,  and  Theo- 
dora suggested  that  Reyburn  be  offered  the  post. 
It  was  evident  that  she  was  honest  and  intelligent 
and  what  little  had  been  done  to  keep  things  to- 
gether in  the  mansion  was  due  to  her  efforts. 

After  tea,  therefore,  when  Theodora  went  into 
the  little  morning  room,  which  had  been  Lady  Cas- 
tlemaine's,  she  sent  for  Reyburn  and  offered  her  the 
place  at  good  wages.  Reyburn  accepted  with  sub- 
dued eagerness.  It  was  a  personal  triumph  for  her 
and  a  victory  over  Lady  Susan  Battle. 

Next  morning  Theodora  began  in  earnest  to  have 
her  own  and  her  father's  rooms  arranged  before  be- 
ginning the  great  work  of  rejuvenation,  which  would 
be  put  in  the  hands  of  capable  men  from  London. 
The  little  morning  room  was  shabby,  but  Theodora 
wisely  determined  to  consider  well  before  she  made 
any  changes.  Her  own  pictures,  ornaments  and 
books  she  placed  skilfully.  There  were  a  few  pic- 
tures hanging  on  the  walls,  chiefly  stained  old  en- 
gravings, and  a  sketch  in  water  colour  of  a  boy  still 


118     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

in  dresses,  holding  a  bird  in  a  cage.  It  was  stiff, 
affected,  and  amateurish  in  style,  but  there  was 
something  about  it  that  indicated  it  to  be  a  genuine 
likeness. 

"Do  you  know  who  this  is?"  asked  Theodora 
of  Reyburn. 

"  That  is  Lord  Fermor,  Madam,"  replied  Rey- 
burn. "  It  was  done  by  Lady  Castlemaine  herself. 
I  think  there  is  some  writing  on  the  back." 

Theodora  took  the  picture  out  of  the  frame  and 
found  written  on  the  back: 

"  Reginald  George  John  Lyndon,  Lord  Fermor, 
aged  five  and  a  half  years.  Painted  by  his  devoted 
mother,  B.  Castlemaine." 

Theodora  put  the  picture  back  gently  into  the 
frame  and  placed  it  in  the  drawer  of  her  desk,  say- 
ing: 

"  I  shall  send  this  to  Lord  Fermor." 

Reyburn's  eyes,  which  were  somewhat  hard  and 
set  in  expression,  filled  with  tears.  This  silent,  nar- 
row and  intense  woman  had  a  passionate  affection 
for  her  nursling,  and  could  not  conceal  it. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  OLD,  OLD  ENGLAND 

THERE  are  few  things  more  interesting  than  the 
rehabilitation  of  a  house  and  grounds,  and  when 
one's  taste  is  good  and  money  is  plentiful,  the  dif- 
ficulties and  perplexities  in  the  way  only  add  to  the 
pleasure.  Seymour  was  delighted  at  the  interest 
that  Theodora  showed  in  the  work,  and  congratu- 
lated himself  upon  his  purchase  of  King's  Lyndon. 

Everything  was  to  be  restored,  even  the  great 
bare  ballroom,  with  its  rusty  lustres,  and  moth-eaten 
curtains.  The  experts  from  London  could  show 
how  everything  should  be  done,  but  Theodora  re- 
fused to  give  them  a  free  hand,  and  saved  the 
fine  old  house  from  becoming  a  mere  museum.  In 
vain  were  the  names  invoked  of  countesses  and  even 
duchesses  who  had  allowed  the  decorators  and  re- 
storers to  work  their  will  unchecked.  Theodora 
calmly  declared,  with  the  characteristic  American 
courage,  that  the  house  was  designed  to  be  lived  in, 
and  she  wished  to  impress  her  own  individuality 
upon  it.  The  work,  however,  was  speedily  put  in 
hand  and  progressed  rapidly.  Nevertheless,  it  would 
require  at  least  six  months  before  the  restoration 
could  be  completed. 

The  neighbourhood  was  one  of  those  common 
enough  in  the  England  of  to-day,  with  splendid  es- 

119 


120    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

tates,  of  which  only  half  the  houses  were  open.  The 
cost  of  maintenance,  the  passion  for  travel  on  the 
part  of  their  owners,  kept  them  closed  for  all  ex- 
cept a  few  months  in  the  year.  The  people  who  were 
in  the  neighborhood  all  called  upon  Seymour  and 
Theodora,  and  they  were  invited  to  the  usual  round 
of  garden  parties.  Theodora's  grace  and  affabil- 
ity were  much  admired  by  the  men,  but  as  the  case  is 
to-day  in  England,  the  women  felt  a  secret  and  per- 
fectly natural  hostility  to  the  American  woman. 

When  they  wished  to  compliment  her,  they  told 
her  they  would  never  have  taken  her  for  an  Amer- 
ican. 

This  was  quietly  resented  by  Theodora,  and  made 
her  adopt  a  gentle  aloofness  of  manner  which  was 
not  conducive  to  intimacy.  But  Theodora  had  learned 
to  live  much  within  herself  and,  besides,  there  were 
now  many  claims  upon  her  time  in  her  new  surround- 
ings, as  Seymour  habitually  referred  everything  to 
her.  Barotti  came  down  twice  every  week  to  give 
her  a  violin  lesson,  and  the  present  resources  of  the 
establishment  enabled  her  to  have  Ashburton,  Wynd- 
ham  and  the  tall  and  lovely  Dot  and  the  Marsacs 
down  for  occasional  week-ends.  Every  day  seemed 
to  bring  Theodora  nearer  to  peace  and  resignation. 

The  death  of  her  child  was  still  a  poignant  mem- 
ory. In  imagination  she  could  see  him  at  her  side 
as  she  walked  through  the  Italian  gardens  and  the 
glades  of  the  park,  and  she  could  almost  feel  his 
warm  little  hand  in  hers.  But  the  sharp  reflection 


THE    OLD,    OLD    ENGLAND 

which  had  pierced  her  heart  like  a  knife  that  this 
child  had  in  him  the  blood  of  Petro  Fontarini,  with 
all  its  terrible  chances,  often  recurred  to  her.  If 
she  could  have  felt  the  inward  conviction  of  faith 
that  her  child  was  now  in  the  happy  fields  of  Para- 
dise, and  that  she  should  see  him  again,  she  thought 
she  could  be  reconciled  to  the  separation,  but  Theo- 
dora's mind  was  of  the  sort  which  puts  questions 
and  demands  answers.  In  her  life  she  had  suffered 
so  much  that  she  had  but  little  time  to  think.  Now, 
however,  her  brain,  naturally  active,  was  beginning 
to  work.  She  asked  herself  if  all  that  she  had  un- 
dergone were  really  an  economic  waste;  if  it  were 
of  design  or  whether  it  were  the  work  of  a  vast,  ir- 
responsible, blundering,  bungling  Power,  which  took 
no  thought  of  waste  of  energy,  and  which  created 
passionate  affections  only  to  be  frustrated;  which 
implanted  the  splendid  hope  of  immortality  only 
to  befool  the  helpless  creatures  of  His  making ;  which 
gave  consciousness  only  to  withdraw  it,  and  made 
man  merely  to  destroy  him.  Her  own  intelligence 
strongly  denied  this,  and  she  longed  to  believe  in 
design  and  ordered  liberty.  She  began  to  cast  about 
for  a  practical  system  of  philosophy  by  which  to 
live,  and  turned  naturally  to  religion.  The  Church 
of  England  impressed  her  like  a  great  building, 
half  a  cathedral  and  half  a  parliament  house.  The 
unquestioned  supremacy  of  the  State  over  the 
Church  alarmed  her,  and  the  ruthlessness  with  which 
it  was  exercised  shocked  her.  There  was  no  Catho- 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

lie  church  nearer  than  Hillborough — eight  miles 
away. 

In  all  her  miserable  years  in  Italy,  the  only  real 
impress  the  Catholic  religion  had  made  upon  her 
was  the  presence  of  the  Sacrament  upon  the  altar. 
She  had  never  entered  the  great  basilicas  or  the 
humblest  chapel  without  feeling  herself  in  the  actual 
Presence  of  the  Lord;  but  with  it  came  bitterness  of 
soul  because  Christ,  being  there  and  seeing  her,  took 
no  thought  of  her,  either  to  teach  her  or  comfort 
her. 

Once,  Ashburton,  being  at  King's  Lyndon,  on 
Sunday  morning  did  not  appear  until  ten  o'clock. 
He  explained  that  he  had  risen  early  and  taken  the 
train  to  Hillborough  in  order  that  he  might  be  present 
at  the  early  mass,  and  had  missed  his  train  on  re- 
turning. This  was  the  first  intimation  Theodora 
had  that  Ashburton  had  become  a  Roman  Catholic. 
It  had  a  good  effect  upon  her.  Had  Ashburton 
been  a  mystic,  a  dreamer,  she  would  not  have  been 
half  so  much  impressed.  But  he  was  the  perfect 
type  of  a  modern  Englishman,  hard-headed  and 
practical,  with  a  very  real  knowledge  of  the  dis- 
advantages of  going  counter  to  the  religion  of  the 
state. 

Ashburton  was  again  at  King's  Lyndon  for  the 
week-end,  as  were  also  the  Marsacs.  Early,  on  the 
Sunday  morning,  a  beautiful  August  sunrise,  when 
the  motor  came  to  the  door  to  take  Marsac  and 
Madame  Marsac  and  Ashburton  to  Hillborough  to 
mass,  Theodora  appeared,  dressed  to  go  with  them. 


THE    OLD,    OLD    ENGLAND          123 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  go,"  she  said  simply. 

When  they  reached  the  little  old  town,  all  green 
and  grey,  and  ivy-grown,  they  found  the  little 
church,  also,  green  and  grey  and  ivy-grown.  Ash- 
burton  and  the  Marsacs  went  within,  but  Theodora 
remained  in  the  churchyard  instead.  It  was  just 
eight  o'clock,  and  the  dewy  freshness  of  the  morn- 
ing was  upon  the  soft  earth  and  the  sombre  yew 
trees  of  the  churchyard. 

Theodora  remained  walking  about,  and  looking 
at  the  graves  of  the  little  children.  She  yearned  to 
go  within  the  church  to  see  the  Sanctuary  lamp  with 
its  undying  light  before  the  door  of  the  tabernacle. 
Still  she  shrank  from  it  with  an  instinctive  fear  that 
she  might  be  entering  a  path  of  difficulty  and  con- 
flict. Too  lately  had  she  known  anything  like  re- 
pose to  wish  to  jeopardise  it  by  any  great  and  im- 
mediate change.  As  she  stood  hesitating,  the  rich 
light  of  the  morning  falling  upon  her  slender  black 
figure,  the  faint  echo  of  the  bell  that  announced  the 
elevation  of  the  Host,  floated  out  in  a  wave  of  deli- 
cate music.  It  seemed  to  Theodora  like  some  great 
cathedral  bell  thundering  out  in  music  its  majes- 
tic call  to  prayer.  Theodora's  feet  turned  toward 
the  door,  and  before  she  knew  it  she  was  on  her 
knees  in  the  dim  little  church.  She  made  no  prayer, 
but  in  her  heart  was  a  great  reproach. 

"  Lord,  Thou  knowest  I  wish  to  believe,  but  Thou 
hast  not  given  me  belief.  Thou  gavest  me  my  child 
only  to  take  it  away.  Thou  hast  helped  others ;  me, 
Thou  hast  not  helped." 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

When  all  was  over,  and  the  congregation  came 
out,  Ashburton  and  Marsac  and  his  wife  were  smil- 
ing and  in  good  spirits.  They  seemed  to  have  had 
increase  of  peace  and  happiness  from  their  devo- 
tion. Only  Theodora  remained  sad  and  abstracted. 

Theodora  sent  to  Fermor,  with  a  graceful  note,  the 
little  water  colour  of  himself,  made  by  his  mother. 
In  reply,  she  had  a  few  lines  full  of  gratitude,  and 
a  promise  to  call  as  soon  as  he  returned  to  Long- 
staffe  from  London. 

The  death  of  the  sitting  member  for  the  division 
of  the  county  occurred  during  this  month,  and  it 
was  published  in  the  London  newspapers  that  Lord 
Fermor  would  stand  for  the  seat.  Seymour  men- 
tioned to  Theodora  that  he  understood  the  sale  of 
King's  Lyndon  had  very  much  lessened  Fermor's 
interest  with  the  landed  people,  but  that  in  small 
places  and  especially  in  a  large  manufacturing  town 
in  the  division,  the  labouring  and  working  people 
were  well  inclined  toward  him,  partly  through  the 
influence  of  Reyburn  and  his  socialistic  club. 

"I  hope  Lord  Fermor  will  succeed,"  said  Sey- 
mour. "  He  represents  a  condition  one  sees  all  over 
Europe,  of  a  man  chained  down  by  traditions  and 
customs,  from  following  his  natural  bent.  He  is 
getting  his  own  way  now  when  he  is  thirty-six  years 
old.  I  should  say  that  so  far  his  life  had  been  hard 
and  disappointing." 

Reyburn's  passionate  attachment  to  Fermor  kept 
him  continually  before  Theodora's  mind.  Reyburn 


THE    OLD,    OLD    ENGLAND          125 

had  a  strange  power  of  conveying  much  in  a  few 
words,  and  Theodora  was  readily  able  to  gather 
from  Reyburn's  words  a  picture  of  the  lonely  and 
sensitive  boy  and  his  neglected  mother  living  mea- 
grely in  the  great  house  while  Lord  Castlemaine 
maintained  state  in  London.  Fermor  had  interested 
Theodora  from  the  beginning,  far  more  than  she 
had  ever  supposed  any  man  could,  and  she  found 
herself  listening  to  Reyburn  with  attention  when 
Fermor's  name  came  up  in  the  matter  of  rehabilitat- 
ing King's  Lyndon. 

Fermor  was  dividing  his  time  between  London 
and  Longstaffe,  ten  miles  away  from  King's  Lyndon, 
and  was  as  hard  worked  as  a  man  could  be,  making 
his  first  contest  for  a  parliamentary  seat.  Lord 
Castlemaine  did  not  let  him  forget  that  Madame 
Fontarini  would  be,  by  long  odds,  the  most  advan- 
tageous person  for  him  to  marry,  thus  flatly  going 
against  the  advice  he  had  previously  given  Fer- 
mor. King's  Lyndon,  moreover,  was  a  valuable  fac- 
tor in  the  district,  and  Theodora  herself  was  charm- 
ing. Fermor  felt  himself  not  unwilling  for  the  mar- 
riage. He  had  the  outlook  of  an  Englishman  of 
his  class,  but  he  realised  that  Madame  Fontarini 
would  require  more  courtship  than  the  heir  to  an 
earldom  is  usually  required  to  make.  He  felt  a 
strong  desire  to  see  Theodora,  and  one  afternoon 
in  July  drove  over  to  King's  Lyndon.  No  one  was 
at  home,  but  Reyburn,  delighted  to  see  him,  in- 
sisted upon  giving  him  tea  before  he  returned.  A 


126     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

slight  rain  gave  her  an  excuse  to  serve  the  tea  in 
the  little  yellow  morning  room  which  had  been  Lady 
Castlemaine's.  It  still  retained  not  only  many  mem- 
ories for  Fermor,  but  many  objects  which  he  recog- 
nised. Reyburn,  who,  like  all  women  from  the 
scullion  to  the  princess,  was  a  promoter  of  mar- 
riages, had  heard  it  hinted  that  a  marriage  might 
be  arranged  between  Fermor  and  Madame  F,on- 
tarni,  and  she  proceeded  to  give  the  plan  some  ef- 
ficient help. 

She  was  full  of  praise  of  Theodora  and  her 
father,  and  the  sly  suggestiveness  of  her  talk  made 
Fermor  smile. 

After  half  an  hour,  he  took  the  road  again,  his 
mind  somewhat  occupied  with  Theodora.  She  was 
certainly  the  antipodes  of  Flora  Bellenden,  and  that 
was  in  itself  a  powerful  recommendation.  Thank 
God,  he  was  delivered  from  the  body  of  that  death, 
and  like  all  men  in  the  same  circumstances,  wondered 
how  he  had  endured  it  so  long,  and  was  amazed  at 
his  own  fault  and  folly.  Mrs.  Bellenden  had  at 
least  realised  that  Fermor  would  hold  no  further 
communication  with  her,  as  he  steadily  declined  to 
answer  her  letter,  and  she  no  longer  molested  him. 
He  would  tell  any  woman  he  might  marry,  about 
Mrs.  Bellenden,  but  it  was  an  ugly  story  to  put  in 
words,  and,  Fermor  surmised,  would  be  uglier  to  an 
American  than  an  Englishwoman. 

Seymour  went  up  to  London  once  during  the 
month  and  saw  Lord  Castlemaine,  who  skilfully  sug- 


THE    OLD,   OLD    ENGLAND         127 

gested  a  marriage  between  Fermor  and  Theodora. 
Seymour  was  somewhat  startled,  but  he  told  Lord 
Castlemaine  it  was  his  wish  to  see  Theodora 
"  happily  married,"  as  he  put  it,  considering  that 
in  the  event  of  his  death  she  would  be  utterly  alone 
in  the  world. 

On  his  return  from  London,  Seymour  made  some 
guarded  allusion  to  what  Lord  Castlemaine  had 
said,  adding  apologetically: 

"  You  know,  my  dear  child,  things  are  differently 
arranged  over  here,  from  what  they  are  in  America, 
and  when  money  and  rank  are  considered,  they  are 
frankly  estimated." 

Theodora  laughed  a  little  and  made  some  daugh- 
ter's joke  with  her  father  upon  his  anxiety  to  be  rid 
of  her,  but  Seymour  felt  amazed  by  the  fact  that 
she  was  not  offended  at  the  suggestion. 

Theodora  studied  the  subject  from  that  point 
of  ingenious  self-deception  which  every  woman  can 
command.  She  succeeded  in  persuading  herself  that 
if  Lord  Fermor  should  propose,  it  would  be  a  judi- 
cious marriage  for  both  of  them.  They  were  no 
longer  boy  and  girl ;  they  could  understand  the  mar- 
riage of  sympathy,  friendship,  respect ;  there  was  no 
occasion  for  either  pretending  to  be  in  love  with  the 
other.  The  one  fact  which  she  steadily  ignored 
was  that,  from  the  first  meeting  with  Fermor,  she 
had  found  herself  thinking  of  him  with  an  astonish- 
ing frequency. 


CHAPTER  XI 
WHAT  DKEAMS  WILL  COME 

THESE  things  were  passing  through  Theodora's 
mind,  when  one  morning  in  August,  to  escape  the 
army  of  workmen  that  swarmed  over  the  house  and 
gardens,  she  walked  to  the  farthest  end  of  the  park. 

The  morning  was  shadowed,  rather  than  over- 
cast, by  a  silvery  mist,  which  hid  the  groups  of 
gnarled  oak  and  beech  trees  like  a  muslin  veil,  and 
lent  a  soft  coolness  to  the  air  as  it  touched  Theo- 
dora's delicate  cheeks,  to  which  a  girlish  bloom  was 
returning.  She  had  walked  almost  to  the  edge  of 
the  park  near  the  highroad  when  the  mist  sud- 
denly turned  to  a  hard  shower.  Theodora,  taking 
up  her  skirts,  ran  toward  a  niche  with  a  stone  bench 
in  the  solid  wall  of  cedars  which  marked  the  boun- 
daries of  the  park.  Over  this  niche  a  great  Nor- 
wegian fir  extended  its  arms  like  a  canopy. 

Just  as  Theodora  gained  the  refuge,  she  heard 
the  galloping  of  a  horse's  hoofs.  The  next  moment 
a  horseman  trotted  under  the  fir  tree,  and  Fermor 
dismounted  and  threw  the  reins  over  a  branch. 
Then,  turning  toward  the  stone  bench,  which  was 
barely  large  enough  for  two,  he  saw  Theodora 
sitting  in  one  corner  of  it,  smiling  and  secure  from 
the  rain. 

128 


WHAT    DREAMS    WILL    COME        129 

Fermor  came  and  sat  down  in  the  vacant  place. 
They  were  so  close  together  that  they  could  study 
each  other  as  never  before.  It  was  the  first  time 
Theodora  had  seen  Fermor  in  riding-dress,  and  he 
looked  well  in  it,  and  younger  and  fresher,  more 
boylike,  than  she  had  supposed  possible.  Fermor 
noticed  the  same  rejuvenation  in  Theodora.  Her 
month  in  the  country  had  given  her  a  new  freshness. 
The  dampness  had  somewhat  dishevelled  her  hair, 
but  its  graceful  disorder  added  to  the  youthfulness 
of  her  appearance. 

"  I  was  on  my  way  to  see  you  and  Mr.  Seymour," 
said  Fermor,  "  when  the  shower  caught  me.  I  re- 
membered this  refuge,  and  have  sat  here  many  hun- 
dreds of  times  in  the  days  when  I  was  a  little  boy." 

"  It  must  be  very  hard,"  said  Theodora,  "  to  see 
strangers,  even  though  they  are  friends,  in  one's 
old  home.  I  have  felt  that  very  much  since  we  have 
been  at  King's  Lyndon." 

"  It  isn't  half  so  hard  as  to  see  the  place  going 
to  rack  and  ruin,"  replied  Fermor  cheerfully.  "  Be- 
sides, we  English  are  now  being  infected  with  some 
of  your  American  ideas.  We  are  beginning  to  live 
in  the  present.  I  have  been  so  much  taken  up  with 
political  concerns  for  the  last  few  weeks  that  I  have 
not  been  able  to  give  much  thought  to  other  af- 
fairs." 

"  What  are  your  prospects  ?  "  asked  Theodora, 
smiling. 

"  Ask  the  committee,"  replied  Fermor,  laughing. 


130     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"I  am  under  instructions  to  promise  everything  to 
everybody  and  to  take  the  most  optimistic  view  of 
my  own  prospects.  I  have,  however,  a  valuable  and 
unexpected  helper  in  Ashburton.  He  is  very  strong 
with  the  socialistic  element,  and  I  hope  through  him 
they  may  be  brought  to  tolerate  me." 

"  You  have  a  very  earnest  supporter  in  Reyburn," 
said  Theodora.  "  I  am  keeping  her  on  as  house- 
keeper, and  I  have  discovered  that  there  is  but  one 
correct  way  to  do  anything,  and  that  is  as  Lady 
Castlemaine  did  it,  and  as  you  have  approved  from 
the  time  you  were  ten  years  old." 

"  It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  even  one  human  being 
devoted  to  one.  Reyburn,  I  reckon  to  be  my  best 
and  earliest  friend  among  women.  I  am  glad  to 
hear 'you  like  her.  She  is  a  faithful  creature.  Do 
you  like  the  place  as  well  as  you  expected?" 

"  Quite  as  much,"  answered  Theodora.  "  Some- 
times I  have  the  feeling  that  the  people  who  once 
lived  here  are  the  real  people,  and  we  are  but  the 
shadows,  the  unrealities,  but  that,  I  suppose,  is  the 
feeling  that  comes  to  everyone  who  lives  in  a  place 
like  King's  Lyndon." 

They  continued  talking  for  a  few  minutes,  when 
Fermor  inadvertently  spoke  of  Rome.  He  cursed 
himself  for  his  want  of  tact  when  he  saw  the  change 
which  came  over  Theodora's  face.  But  she  sur- 
prised him  and  herself  by  saying: 

"  I  try  to  think  of  Rome  as  seldom  as  I  can. 
Perhaps  you  have  heard  something  of  the  terrible 


WHAT    DREAMS    WILL    COME        131 

sorrows  I  experienced  there !  All  the  beauty  of 
Italy  speaks  to  me  only  of  sorrow. 

"  I  often  saw  you  in  Rome,"  said  Fermor  quietly. 

Theodora  turned  two  startled  eyes  on  him. 

"  In  the  Borghese  Gardens ;  sometimes  the  old 
man,  Cardinal  Fontarini,  was  with  you.  You  wore 
deep  mourning  and  were  thin  and  pale  and  sad.  The 
change  in  you  is  very  great.  I  hope  it  will  be 
greater  as  time  goes  on." 

"  I  had  no  hope  at  all  when  we  came  to  England," 
replied  Theodora  in  a  low  voice,  "  but  since  then, 
time,  and  the  desire  to  please  my  father,  have  given 
me  a  little  hope.  I  hope  for  peace,  even  if  I  have 
no  happiness  in  life.  For  I  assure  you,"  she  con- 
tinued, turning  full  upon  Fermor,  "  I  had  no  hap- 
piness in  my  marriage,  for  so  much  as  one  week, 
nor,  as  much  as  I  loved  my  child,  did  I  have  much 
happiness  in  him.  I  could  be  tortured  through  him, 
and  I  was  tortured  through  him  by  Pietro  Fon- 
tarini." 

As  she  spoke  her  husband's  name,  the  fire  of  re- 
sentment burned  in  her  eyes,  and  echoed  in  her  low 
voice.  She  hated  the  memory  of  Pietro  Fontarini 
as  she  had  hated  and  despised  the  man  after  know- 
ing him.  This  hatred  came  out  in  spite  of  herself,  for 
she  recollected  at  once  that  she  was  speaking  to  a 
comparative  stranger,  and  stopped  suddenly. 

Fermor  listened  to  this  with  approval.  He  had 
no  fancy  for  being  any  woman's  second  love,  and  for 
feeling  that  there  were  secret  memories  and  tender 


182    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

recollections  In  her  heart  which  he  of  all  men  should 
least  know,  things  to  be  unspoken  between  them, 
secrets  to  be  sedulously  guarded  from  him.  Then 
he  said  to  Theodora  boldly : 

"  Can  any  normal  woman  marry  a  man  she  does 
not  love?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Theodora  with  prompt  direct- 
ness. "  What  can  an  inexperienced  girl  of  eighteen 
know  of  love?  Would  you  call  the  mere  fancy  of  a 
sentimental  girl  for  a  handsome  face,  a  graceful 
carriage,  by  the  name  of  love?  It  is  no  more  love 
than  the  fancy  for  a  picture,  or  a  statue,  or  any- 
thing else  which  a  girl  may  idealise.  In  my  case, 
it  was  a  man.  My  father,  for  some  reason  which  I 
do  not  now  understand,  was  eager  for  the  marriage. 
I  had  no  one  to  advise  me,  to  hold  me  back.  The 
Fontarinis,  all  of  them,  tried  to  bring  about  the 
marriage.  I  look  back  on  myself  with  the  deepest 
pity." 

The  white  rain  was  still  coming  down  in  sheets, 
and  Theodora's  sudden  confidences  concerning  the 
tragedy  of  her  life,  made  in  a  solitude  almost  as  com- 
plete as  if  they  were  alone  in  a  world  all  their  own, 
touched  Fermor  deeply.  He  said  a  few  words  full 
of  meaning  to  her,  and  she,  with  ready  under- 
standing, comprehended.  A  deep  blush  flooded  her 
face  as  she  listened  to  him.  It  was  not  exactly  a 
lover's  pleading.  Fermor  was  too  sincere  a  man 
to  profess  more  than  he  felt,  and  least  of  all  to  a 
woman  of  great  wealth.  But  it  was  the  offer  of  fidel- 


WHAT    DREAMS    WILL    COME        133 

iky,  of  honour,  of  all  that  had  been  lacking  in  Pietro 
Fontarini.  Something  was  lacking,  too,  in  Fermor's 
offer — the  deep  affection  for  which  Theodora 
yearned,  and  of  which  she  felt  herself  capable.  But 
something  was  there  which  was  the  last  thing  on 
earth  to  be  expected  and  which  was  exactly  opposed 
to  outward  appearances.  This  was  disinterested- 
ness. True  it  was,  Fermor  could  not  afford  to 
marry  without  money,  but  he  was  as  little  likely  to 
marry  for  money  as  any  man  living. 

He  did  not  press  Theodora  for  an  answer  then, 
asking  her  only  to  take  it  into  consideration.  This 
Theodora  promised,  and  would  promise  no  more  than 
that,  but  deep  in  her  heart  was  the  conviction  that 
here  lay  her  one  chance  for  happiness. 

They  had  sat  nearly  a  full  hour  in  the  little  ref- 
uge before  the  rain  ceased  and  the  sun  came  out  upon 
a  world  all  green  and  gold  and  diamond-studded. 

"  It  was  a  fateful  rain  for  me,"  said  Fermor, 
smiling,  as  they  picked  their  way  across  the  park  to- 
ward the  house,  Fermor  leading  his  horse.  "  I  should 
not  have  had  the  courage  to  speak  so  soon  but  for 
the  chance  of  seeing  you  so  unexpectedly  alone,  and 
for  what  you  told  me." 

"  Remember,"  said  Theodora  with  soft  positiveness, 
"  not  a  word  of  this  is  to  be  said  to  anyone,  least 
of  all  my  father.  He  must  hear  it  from  me." 

Fermor  was  somewhat  aghast  at  this.  He  had 
expected  to  have  an  interview  with  Seymour  directly 
after  luncheon,  but  wisely  concluded  that  American 


methods  were  slightly  different  from  English  ones, 
and  thought  it  best  to  agree  to  Theodora's  scheme. 

Seymour  met  them  on  the  terrace. 

"  I  have  been  anxious  about  you,"  he  said  to 
Theodora.  "  I  would  have  sent  the  carriage  for  you 
if  I  had  known  where  you  were,  but  I  thought  it 
likely  you  had  taken  refuge  in  the  village." 

"I  was  quite  safe,  papa,"  answered  Theodora, 
smiling.  "  Lord  Fermor  and  I  sat  in  the  little  ref- 
uge in  the  cedar  hedge  by  the  lower  lodge,  and  were 
perfectly  sheltered  from  the  rain." 

Fermor,  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  his  own 
countrywomen,  was  not  a  little  surprised  and  even 
piqued  at  the  calmness  with  which  Theodora  took 
what  seemed  to  him  the  all-important  event  in  a  wo- 
man's life.  This  was  increased  by  Theodora's  smil- 
ing self-possession  at  the  luncheon  table.  It  was 
as  if  she  had  put  out  of  her  mind  completely,  if 
not  entirely  forgotten,  the  fact  that  she  had  been 
invited  to  become  one  day  Countess  of  Castlemaine. 
But  Fermor's  native  good  sense,  and  good  taste  and 
touch  of  humour,  were  all  engaged  by  this  novel  re- 
ception of  his  proposal.  He  had  supposed  that  when 
a  man  made  an  offer  to  a  woman,  it  was  clearly  within 
his  rights  to  demand  an  instant  reply,  and  Theodora's 
cool  postponement  of  a  decision  seemed  to  estab- 
lish the  truth  of  what  he  had  heard — that  ac- 
cording to  the  American  plan,  a  man  had  no  rights 
that  a  woman  is  bound  to  respect.  But  the  mere 
fillip  to  his  pride  gave  an  unusual  interest  to  the 


WHAT    DREAMS    WILL    COME        135 

situation.  He  realised  that  Theodora,  if  she  mar- 
ried him,  would  not  do  so  for  his  title,  just  as  Theo- 
dora, with  her  sharp  woman's  instinct,  had  perceived 
that  Fermor  was  not  selling  himself  at  a  price. 

Anythng  more  unembarrassed  than  Theodora  was, 
could  not  be  imagined  when  her  father  and  Fermor 
were  smoking  together  on  the  terrace  after  lunch- 
eon. It  appealed  to  Fermor's  latent  sense  of  humour, 
and  he  was  secretly  laughing  at  himself  in  the  novel 
and  totally  unexpected  position  in  which  he  found 
himself — a  probationer,  as  it  were,  upon  Madame 
Fontarini's  pleasure,  without  even  the  privilege  of 
speaking  to  her  father  on  the  subject.  He  had  never 
heard  of  such  an  instance  before,  and  the  novelty 
of  it  added  zest  to  the  situation. 

There  was  always  in  Theodora  something  soft 
and  appealing.  She  did  not  take  men  by  storm,  as 
the  tall  black-eyed  Wyndham  girl  did,  but  in  this 
dove-like  Theodora,  now  appeared  that  quiet  sense 
of  humour,  the  birthright  of  every  American,  and  a 
calmness  which  made  any  other  method  of  acting 
seem  ridiculous. 

Fermor  was  on  his  mettle  and  showed  the  same 
composure  as  Theodora  did,  ignoring  any  change 
in  their  relations.  He  discussed  his  election  pros- 
pects with  Seymour,  and  spoke  of  expecting  con- 
siderable help  from  Ashburton,  who  was  strong 
with  the  various  socialist  clubs  which  flourished  in 
all  of  the  big  market  towns  of  the  district.  His 
predecessor  had  been  elected  by  a  decreased  majority 


136     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

due  to  these  radical  votes,  which  slightly  but  steadily 
increased,  and  had  been  abused  by  both  of  the  great 
parties.  This  radical  vote,  which  was  made  up 
chiefly  of  the  workers  in  shops,  and  the  class  of 
poorly  paid,  but  skilled  mechanics,  would  listen  to 
Ashburton,  who  took  much  interest  in  the  political 
status  of  the  working  classes. 

"  My  adversary,"  continued  Fermor,  smiling, 
"  has  one  great  advantage  over  me,  a  charming 
wife  and  two  pretty  daughters  who  will  work  and 
speak  for  him." 

"  That  is  one  thing  I  do  not  like  in  your  British 
elections,"  said  Seymour,  "  the  sight  of  women  on 
the  platform.  I  should  very  much  dislike  to  see  my 
daughter  in  such  a  position." 

"  As  I  understand,"  remarked  Theodora,  "  that 
the  most  sensible  English  women  in  electioneering, 
content  themselves  with  dressing  well,  and  looking 
charming,  and  praising  their  husbands  or  fathers 
or  brothers  for  whom  they  are  appearing,  I  should 
not  think  intelligent  voters  would  be  much  im- 
pressed by  that  sort  of  thing." 

Every  word  Theodora  uttered  showed  to  Fer- 
mor's  observing  mind  that  her  ideas  and  ideals  were 
totally  different  from  those  of  an  Englishwoman, 
and  these  ideas  and  ideals  had  for  him  the  charm  of 
the  unknown. 

When  he  rose  to  go  the  only  allusion  he  made  to 
the  marked  event  of  their  meeting  in  the  park,  was 
to  say  on  shaking  hands  with  Theodora: 


WHAT    DREAMS    WILL    COME        137 

"  I  shall  be  in  this  neighbourhood  two  weeks  from 
to-day,  and  perhaps  you  will  allow  me  the  privi- 
lege of  calling  again?  " 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Theodora,  and  Seymour 
with  ready  hospitality  added: 

"  Come  and  dine  with  us,  we  shall  like  to  know 
how  things  are  going  in  the  division." 

Fermor  thanked  him,  without  accepting  or  de- 
clining the  invitation,  which  he  thought  might  be 
most  acceptable  or  exactly  the  contrary,  according 
to  the  answer  he  got  from  Theodora. 

Seymour  went  with  him  down  the  stone  steps  of 
the  terrace  into  the  courtyard  beyond,  where  Fer- 
mor's  horse  had  been  brought.  As  the  two  men 
left  the  terrace,  Theodora  went  upstairs  with. her 
quick,  silent  step  to  a  great  window  in  her  bedroom 
from  which  she  could  see  anyone  going  down  the 
avenue  of  horse  chestnuts  to  the  highroad. 

Fermor  started  out  at  a  sharp  canter,  riding  well, 
and  looking  as  a  true  horseman  should,  as  if  the 
man  and  horse  were  one.  In  a  few  minutes  he  dis- 
appeared under  the  shade  of  the  trees,  but  there 
was  a  point  where  the  avenue  ceased  and  the  park 
opened  into  a  wide  champaign.  Theodora  stood  at 
the  window  until  she  saw  the  distant  figure  of  the 
horseman  come  out  upon  this  plateau.  The  after- 
noon was  radiant,  and  Fermor's  figure  w,as  sil- 
houetted against  the  green  fields  and  unclouded  blue 
of  the  sky.  His  horse  was  walking  slowly  along, 
the  reins  upon  his  neck.  This  was  at  a  point  where 


138     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

a  fine  view  of  the  stately  house  and  spacious  gardens 
could  be  had,  and  visitors  were  usually  halted  there 
to  get  this  splendid  vista. 

"  If  he  is  thinking  of  me,"  said  Theodora  to  her- 
self, with  the  ingenuity  of  a  woman's  mind,  "  he  will 
ride  on  without  looking  at  the  place,  but  if  he  is 
thinking  of  once  more  being  master  of  King's  Lyn- 
don, he  will  stop  his  horse  and  look  back  at  the 
house." 

But  Fermor  did  not  stop  and  look  back;  he  trot- 
ted off  rapidly  out  of  sight. 

Theodora,  still  standing  at  the  window,  sighed, 
but  did  not  smile  at  herself.  The  sigh  was  for  her 
lost  girlhood,  for  the  true  dream  of  love,  which  she 
had  never  known.  She  was  a  woman  of  thirty,  and 
had  passed  through  the  stress  and  storm.  The  ro- 
mantic instincts  of  a  girl  still  haunted  her  imagi- 
nation, but  she  could  not  speak  of  them.  She  could 
not  tell  Fermor  what  a  girl,  smiling  and  blushing, 
would  tell  her  lover.  The  proposed  marriage  was 
all  a  cool,  sensible  arrangement — that  is,  on  Fer- 
mor's  part,  and  it  must  appear  so  on  hers.  Deep 
in  her  heart,  though,  was  a  secret  fancy  for  Fer- 
mor. Like  all  women,  she  expected  to  live  her  own 
love  story.  She  admired  Fermor  and  recognised  his 
vigour  of  mind  and  character,  and  relished  the  idea 
of  depending  upon  it.  Her  father  was  the  most  un- 
sophisticated of  men ;  she  often  wondered  how  a  man 
with  so  little  knowledge  of  the  world  could  have 
made  and  even  kept  a  fortune.  He  had  often  said  to 
her: 


WHAT    DREAMS    WILL    COME        139 

"  I  made  my  money  by  a  lucky  hit,  and  I  keep 
it  by  not  trying  to  be  a  financier,  but  a  conserva- 
tive investor." 

Seymour  was  full  of  praises  of  Fermor  at  tea 
time.  Theodora  listened  silently. 

After  tea,  in  the  cool,  bright  summer  afternoon, 
they  went  to  walk.  Theodora  led  her  father  to  the 
little  refuge  under  the  Norwegian  fir  tree.  When 
they  were  together  in  that  green  solitude,  she  put 
her  hand  in  his  and  told  him  what  Fermor  had  said 
to  her. 

"  Papa,"  she  said,  fixing  her  dark  and  serious 
eyes  upon  him,  "  here  is  the  strange,  the  comforting, 
thing;  Lord  Fermor  would  not  be  marrying  me  for 
money — or  rather,  for  money  alone.  I  can't  tell 
you  how  I  know  this.  Of  course  he  needs  money,  but 
he  would  not  sell  himself.  You  may  call  this  vanity, 
but  it  is  not,  it  is  the  truth." 

Seymour  caught  his  daughter  to  his  heart. 

"  I  believe  it,"  he  said.  "  How  could  any  man 
keep  from  loving  you?  I  believe  even  that  scoun- 
drel, Pietro  Fontarini,  was  in  love  with  you  after  his 
scoundrelly  fashion,  but  this  man !  My  dear- 
est, it  is  the  best  thing  that  could  happen.  Ash- 
burton  thinks  highly  of  him,  and  Ashburton's  word 
about  a  man  may  be  taken." 

"  Are  you  anxious  to  be  rid  of  me,  papa  ?  "  asked 
Theodora.  It  is  the  question  which  a  fond  daughter 
asks  of  an  adoring  father. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Seymour,  with  a  strange  solem- 
nity. "  I  am  anxious  to  see  you  with  a  man's 


140     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

strong  arm  between  you  and  the  world,  anxious  to 
feel  that  if  I  were  not  with  you,  there  would  be 
another  and  a  better  man " 

Theodora  put  her  hand  over  her  father's  lips. 

"  Hush !  "  she  cried.  "  Neither  you  nor  anyone 
else  shall  ever  say  such  a  thing  as  that.  You  are  the 
best  man  that  ever  lived.  If  Lord  Fermor  is  only 
half  as  good — but  no,  he  can't  be.  I  must  make  up 
my  mind,  if  I  marry  him,  to  find  him  not  so  kind, 
not  so  self-sacrificing  as  you,  nor  can  he  ever  come 
between  us,  or  ever  make  it  so  that  I  can't  come  to 
you  if  you  need  me." 

All  at  once  in  this  first  moment  that  the  thought 
of  a  separation  came  to  Theodora,  the  recollection 
of  her  father's  unceasing  devotion,  watchfulness, 
and  passionate  affection  overwhelmed  her.  The 
large  bright  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks  as  she 
said  brokenly: 

"  When  I  think  of  what  you  have  been  to  me  from 
the  time  I  can  first  remember  until  this  moment,  it 
seems  as  if  no  daughter  ever  had  such  a  father." 

Seymour  kissed  her  silently,  the  passion  of  father- 
hood speaking  in  his  face  as  the  devotion  of  filial 
love  shone  in  Theodora's  eyes.  Father  and  daugh- 
ter walked  back  through  the  purple  twilight,  Sey- 
mour's arm  within  Theodora's.  They  always  fell 
into  those  attitudes  in  which  Theodora  seemed  pro- 
tecting the  gentle  old  man. 


CHAPTER   XII 

VISITORS  AT  KING'S  LYNDON 

ON  the  following  Saturday,  Ashburton,  with 
Wyndham  and  his  sister,  came  to  King's  Lyndon 
for  the  week-end. 

Fermor's  visit  was  mentioned,  and  Ashburton,  in 
spite  of  Seymour's  reticence  concerning  the  object 
of  it,  surmised  its  meaning.  The  proposed  mar- 
riage was  hinted  in  many  quarters  despite  Lady 
Susan  Battle's  fierce  pronunciamento  that  no  per- 
son connected  with  the  Castlemaine  family  would 
condescend  to  an  American  alliance.  Ashburton 
was  full  of  Fermor's  election  prospects,  which  he 
hoped  would  result  in  benefit  to  the  labouring  classes, 
of  whom  the  late  incumbent  had  been  peculiarly  for- 
getful. It  seemed  to  Ashburton  as  if  Fermor's  re- 
habilitation would  be  complete  if  he  was  married  to 
a  sweet  and  intelligent  woman,  and  engaged  in  a 
useful  public  life. 

On  the  Sunday  morning,  Ashburton  went  to  the 
little  church  at  Hillborough  by  train,  and  returned. 
Theodora  made  no  offer  to  go  with  him  and  he 
thought  she  had  probably  acted  on  a  mere  impulse 
in  going  on  the  previous  Sunday. 

In  the  afternoon  Jack  Thornycroft,  who  dogged 
the  footsteps  of  Dot  Wyndham,  appeared  for  tea 

141 


142    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

with  a  plausible  story  of  being  on  a  visit  to  a  great 
aunt  in  the  neighbourhood.  He  made  every  effort  to 
beguile  Dot  into  a  walk  in  the  park  alone  with  him, 
but  that  young  person,  with  cool  disregard  of  the 
sentimental  advances  of  the  eldest  son  of  a  baronet, 
insisted  in  attaching  both  him  and  herself  to  the 
whole  party  at  King's  Lyndon  for  a  stroll  after  tea. 
In  going  through  the  village  they  passed  Reyburn's 
cottage.  In  the  garden  Reyburn  sat  in  his  wheeled 
chair  under  a  great  oak  tree  with  his  congregation 
of  socialists  surrounding  him,  while  he  expounded 
his  notions  of  government.  He  spoke  with  great 
civility  to  Seymour  and  Ashburton,  and  answered 
politely  Theodora's  inquiries  about  his  health. 

"  I  should  like  very  much,"  said  Seymour  to  Rey- 
burn, "to  hear  what  you  have  to  say  on  govern- 
ment and  religion.  Would  you  let  me  have  a  place 
on  this  bench?  " 

"  A  young  workingman  rose  at  once  and  offered 
Seymour  his  place.  Then,  Theodora  said  smiling: 

"  Perhaps  you  would  let  us  all  stay  too." 

With  much  politeness,  the  whole  party  was  accom- 
modated with  seats.  Of  the  newcomers  Theo- 
dora was  perhaps  the  one  most  distrusted  by  the 
assemblage  of  thirty  or  forty  clerks  and  shopkeep- 
ers and  mechanics  gathered  under  the  great,  spread- 
ing oak  tree.  They  were  accustomed  to  seeing  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  the  aristocracy  coming 
among  them  and  beguiling  them,  so  Reyburn  taught, 
of  their  votes.  They  had  no  idea  of  Seymour's  po- 


VISITORS   AT    KING'S    LYNDON      143 

litical  affiliations,  and  being,  as  they  supposed, 
fabulously  rich,  they  regarded  him  as  a  concealed 
enemy.  Wyndham  and  his  sister,  they  observed  with 
keen  curiosity,  as  Americans,  and  possibly  in  sym- 
pathy with  them. 

Reyburn  then  continued  his  address.  It  was  upon 
the  old,  old  subject  of  the  rights  of  man,  and  was 
a  free  adaptation  of  what  he  had  read  of  Camille 
Des  Moulins  and  Danton.  He  had  no  understanding 
of  Jefferson  and  Franklin.  Paine's  "  Age  of  Rea- 
son "  appeared  to  Reyburn  to  be  a  new  dispensa- 
tion. Nevertheless,  his  thinking  and  reading  were 
enough  for  him  to  present  his  case  effectively. 

When  Reyburn  had  spoken  for  twenty  mniutes, 
Ashburton  asked  the  privilege  of  making  a  short 
reply.  This  Reyburn  courteously  agreed  to  and  Ash- 
burton  was  listened  to  with  respectful  attention.  He 
pointed  out  the  dangers  of  dealing  radically  with 
old-established  things,  overlaid  by  the  traditions  of 
a  thousand  years,  declaring  himself  a  radical  in 
mind,  but  a  conservative  in  action.  What  Ashbur- 
ton said  was  full  of  pith  and  the  sublime  common 
sense  which  distinguished  him,  but  there  was  in  it 
nothing  to  captivate  the  imaginations  of  men  who 
had  been  pondering  upon  the  great  words  of  liberty, 
enlightenment,  republicanism. 

Wyndham,  his  black  eyes  flashing,  followed  both 
the  discourses  attentively.  When  Ashburton  con- 
cluded and  sat  down,  Reyburn,  looking  toward 
Wyndham,  said: 


144     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"Perhaps  the  gentleman  from  America  will  say 
something  to  us?" 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure,"  replied  Wynd- 
ham,  rising.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  the 
truth  or  a  pack  of  agreeable  and  diversified  lies  ?  " 

"  The  truth,  if  you  please,"  said  Reyburn 
gravely. 

"  Very  well  then,"  continued  Wyndham.  "  I  have 
sat  here  as  an  American  listening  to  what  has  been 
said.  There  was  an  American  writer  who  said  of 
the  English  people  sixty  years  ago  that  they  were 
still  playing  with  toys  with  which  we  have  finished. 
It  is  as  true  to-day  as  it  was  then.  You  don't  need 
to  get  rid  of  property  or  to  distribute  it,  or  to 
abolish  your  army  and  navy,  or  anything  of  the 
sort.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  abolish  titles  and  he- 
reditary honours  and  privileges.  Rank  is  a  very  real 
thing,  even  although  it  does  not  carry  with  it  a  seat 
in  the  House  of  Lords.  It  means  caste,  which  is  a 
fixed  quantity,  and  very  different  from  class,  which 
is  a  movable  quantity.  It  is  just  the  difference 
between  a  fortress  and  a  camp.  Caste  is  a  fortress 
and  class  is  a  camp.  Monarchy,  you  know,  is  a 
primitive  institution,  and  when  you  reach  the  point 
when  you  have  a  constitutional  monarchy  and  put 
your  king  under  bonds  to  behave  himself,  you  ad- 
mit the  fact  that  you  could  do  without  him  perfectly 
well.  There  is  no  more  real  basis  for  a  man's  in- 
heriting political  power  than  ecclesiastical  power. 
To  be  consistent,  the  son  of  the  Archbishop  of  Can- 


VISITORS    AT    KING'S    LYNDON      145 

terbury  ought  to  be  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  as 
soon  as  his  father  dies,  and  the  daughters  of  Field 
Marshal  Lord  Roberts,  who  are  to  inherit  his  title, 
ought  also  to  be  field  marshal.  Monarchy,  seen  from 
the  republican  point  of  view,  is  a  grotesque  ob- 
ject. You  had  for  sixty- two  years  an  illustrious 
lady  as  queen,  who,  in  her  own  person,  redeemed 
the  whole  thing  from  ridicule.  Now,  the  question  in 
every  country  in  Europe  is,  *  How  long  will  mon- 
archy of  any  sort  last,  no  matter  how  sugar-coated 
it  is?' 

"  In  England  it  will  last  a  good  while  yet ;  first, 
because  you  have  a  government  exactly  suited  to 
3rour  needs,  and  which  is  very  well  administered; 
secondly,  because  the  rights  of  life  and  property  are 
very  well  protected  here;  and  thirdly,  because  you 
don't  know  what  liberty  is." 

At  that  a  rustle  went  round  among  the  assem- 
blage and  a  young  clerk  with  a  thoughtful  face, 
rose  and  said: 

"Wherever  the  British  flag  floated,  every  man 
was  free  long  before  Abraham  Lincoln  freed  the 
slaves  in  America." 

"  True,  my  friend,"  answered  Wyndham.  "  One 
doesn't  obtain  liberty  at  a  bound,  nor  is  it  attained 
without  the  shedding  of  oceans  of  blood.  Don't 
forget  that.  But  I  tell  you,  liberty  is  cheap  at  any 
price.  I  know  that  many  defects  still  exist  in  the 
operation  of  our  system  in  America.  Our  develop- 
ment has  been  so  much  more  rapid  than  the  world 


146     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

has  ever  seen  before,  that  great  forces  have  come 
into  being  faster  than  means  of  controlling  them 
have  been  created.  But  the  means  of  controlling 
everything  lies  in  the  hands  of  the  people,  and 
affairs  can  be  remedied  just  as  fast  and  just  in  the 
way  the  people  choose.  Here  in  England  you  have 
a  way  of  saying  that  you  are  more  democratic  than 
we  are  in  America.  Now,  in  China,  the  law  is  more 
rigidly  administered  than  in  England.  The  closer 
the  people  are  packed  in  a  country,  the  more  they 
are  forced  to  respect  each  other's  rights.  In  China, 
when  a  bank  fails,  all  the  officers  of  it  are  imme- 
diately executed.  There  has  not  been  a  bank  fail- 
ure in  China  for  six  hundred  years.  The  margin 
upon  which  soul  and  body  can  be  kept  together  in 
China  is  so  narrow,  that  the  failure  of  a  bank  means 
death  to  thousands  of  people.  In  England,  if  a 
bank  fails,  it  means  a  terrible  catastrophe,  want  and 
penury  to  thousands.  If  a  bank  fails  in  America, 
it  means  that  a  lot  of  people  who  did  nothing  be- 
fore, have  to  go  to  work,  that's  all.  The  conse- 
quence is,  that  money  is  not  the  sacred  thing  in 
America  that  it  is  in  England,  and  in  England  it 
is  not  the  matter  of  life  and  death  that  it  is  in 
China. 

"  As  for  what  my  friend  Ashburton  tells  you  about 
being  slow  in  repairing  this  old  machine  of  yours, 
don't  believe  a  word  of  it.  Major  Ashburton  is  a 
first-class  fellow,  and  except  that  he  doesn't  under- 
stand American  jokes,  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with 


VISITORS   AT   KING'S    LYNDON 

him,  but  there  is  no  way  of  repairing  an  old  worn- 
out  machine  like  monarchy.  As  Tom  Macaulay 
said :  *  There  is  no  way  of  preparing  people  for 
freedom.'  Some  very  level-headed  English  public 
men  now  talk  about  abolishing  the  House  of  Lords. 
Now,  when  you  have  abolished  the  House  of  Lords, 
you  have  got  to  abolish  the  State  Church,  and 
the  King — God  bless  him!  Nice  man,  King  Ed- 
ward is.  He  would  make  a  fine  President.  I  was 
presented  to  him  last  week.  He  has  a  fine  eye,  and 
is  the  son  of  his  mother.  Magnificent  old  lady, 
Queen  Victoria  was.  Greatest  woman  of  the  age. 
I  backed  out  of  the  King's  presence  with  the  highest 
respect  for  him  as  a  gentleman,  and  wondered  how 
he  could  go  through  the  thing  without  grinning,  but 
he  looked  as  sober  as  a  judge.  The  old  monarchical 
machine  will  go  on  for  a  while  yet.  Some  day  it  will 
fall  with  a  crash,  just  like  a  lot  of  other  monarchies 
in  Europe. 

"  Meanwhile  don't  claim  any  liberty  in  England  as 
long  as  you  require  the  housemaid  to  state  her  re- 
ligion before  you  engage  her,  and  allow  a  gentle- 
man to  legislate  for  you,  because  he  had  an  ances- 
tress who  had  not  a  rag  of  character,  and  became 
the  mistress  of  a  king.  Be  satisfied  with  what  you 
have,  good  government,  religious  toleration  and 
heavy  taxes.  When  you  acquire  the  germ  of  liberty, 
you  will  be  astonished  at  the  vast  number  of  things 
you  will  have  to  get  rid  of  in  this  pleasant  old 
England." 


148     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

There  was  a  silence  as  Wyndham  sat  down,  and 
Ashburton  stroked  his  moustache  in  meditative  tri- 
umph. Reyburn  politely  thanked  Wyndham  for  his 
remarks  and  the  party  from  King's  Lyndon  moved 
on. 

"  You  haven't  done  me  any  harm  in  the  eyes  of 
my  friends,"  said  Ashburton,  smiling.  "  When  you 
told  them  they  did  not  know  what  liberty  was,  you 
wounded  their  self-love,  and  that  was  enough." 

"  So  I  thought  at  the  time,"  replied  Wyndham, 
laughing,  "  but  when  I  speak  as  an  American  jour- 
nalist I  am  the  apostle  of  abstract  truth.  Abstract 
truth  is  highly  rarefied,  you  know,  and  the  human 
subject  does  not  thrive  on  it — can't  stand  much  of 
it,  in  fact.  All  truth  has  to  be  modified  to  make  it 
bearable;  but  by  degrees  people  climb  up  from  the 
swamps  and  marshes  of  monarchy  to  the  heights 
of  republicanism  where  the  air  is  relatively  pure." 

Then  Ashburton  began  speaking  of  Fermor's 
candidacy,  saying  Fermor  was  likely  to  be  useful 
in  Parliament. 

"  There  is  an  instance,"  said  Wyndham,  "  of  a 
man  being  held  in  bondage  by  his  caste.  That 
man,  you  say,  has  a  great  aptitude  and  natural 
fitness  for  political  life,  yet  he  passed  fifteen  of  his 
best  years  as  a  Guardsman  because  his  father,  his 
grandfather,  and  his  great  grandfather,  and  I 
don't  know  how  many  greats  back,  had  done  the 
same  thing.  He  had  as  little  freedom  to  follow 
his  natural  bent  as  this  man  Reyburn  has,  who 


VISITORS   AT    KING'S    LYNDON      149 

ought  to  have  been  a  lawyer  and  an  advocate,  and 
is  a  shoemaker." 

The  discussion  kept  on  good-naturedly  during 
the  whole  walk.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Miss 
Wyndham  remained  quiet  while  the  talk  was  in 
progress.  She  interjected  various  remarks  of  a  pene- 
trating, if  somewhat  crude  nature,  accompanied  by 
a  dazzling  smile  and  much  graceful  gesticulation 
with  an  ivory-handled  lace  parasol. 

Theodora  said  little,  although  she  listened  with 
interest.  The  circumstances  of  her  life  had  directed 
her  attention  more  to  the  moral  aspect  of  life 
than  to  questions  affecting  concrete  things.  She 
was  more  interested  in  the  liberty  of  the  soul  than 
the  social  condition  of  the  individual.  One  additional 
idea  she  had  gained,  and  that  was  a  new  view  of  the 
responsibility  of  money.  Heretofore,  she  had  only 
thought  of  it  in  its  primitive  conception,  that  all 
rich  people  ought  to  give  money  to  the  poor.  Wynd- 
ham agreed  with  Ashburton  that  gifts  might  rob 
a  man  of  his  self-respect.  This  had  not  occurred  to 
Theodora  until  then.  She  thought  that  by  the  ex- 
ercise of  tact  and  delicacy,  a  gift  could  be  made 
in  some  way  to  almost  anyone.  Then  she  pondered 
over  Wyndham's  saying  that  in  Europe  people  be- 
gin at  the  wrong  end  of  economic  things,  by  with- 
holding a  living  wage  and  giving  a  pension  instead. 

She  asked  some  questions  so  intelligently  that 
Wyndham  earnestly  advised  Ashburton  to  secure 
Theodora's  services  on  the  platform  for  Fermor. 


150     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

The  house  guests  left  on  the  Monday  morning, 
and  Theodora  resumed  her  life  of  quiet  reflection. 
Outwardly,  there  was  much  to  do,  to  think  of,  and 
to  decide,  and  the  mansion  resounded  with  noise  of 
workmen  all  day.  But  there  was  nothing  of  a  dis- 
turbing nature.  Not  only  Theodora  but  her  father 
was  thinking  about  the  future.  Like  all  women, 
Theodora  studied  her  own  heart  closely,  and  she  at 
once  realised  that  Fermor  had  a  powerful  and  grow- 
ing attraction  for  her.  He  was  ever  in  her  mind,  not 
in  his  aspect  of  rank,  because  to  marry  him  would  be 
no  real  elevation  to  Madame  Fontarini.  Her  per- 
sonality, her  fortune,  gave  her  entrance  anywhere, 
and,  as  in  her  first  marriage  to  Pietro  Fontarini, 
she  would  lose,  rather  than  gain.  As  an  American, 
she  was  in  principle  and  in  effect  the  equal  of 
any  person  whatever  in  rank,  although  not  in  prece- 
dence. When  she  entered  the  Fontarini  family,  one 
of  the  greatest  in  Rome,  she  acquired  a  certain 
precedence  of  some,  and  subordination  to  others. 
This  would  be  the  effect  of  her  becoming  Lady  Fer- 
mor, and  eventually  Countess  of  Castlemaine.  But 
this  gave  Theodora  no  concern.  She  had  inherited 
in  an  extraordinary  degree  the  American  sense  of 
perfect  equality  with  the  highest,  and  her  foreign 
education  and  marriage  had  served  to  accentuate, 
rather  than  modify,  this. 

All  women  act  upon  much  they  cannot  formu- 
late. So  did  Theodora,  and  when  the  time  came  that 
she  must  ask  herself  where  she  belonged  in  the  social 


VISITORS   AT   KING'S    LYNDON      151 

order,  it  was  already  settled  in  advance.  She  gave, 
therefore,  no  thought  to  the  question  of  rank  with 
which  the  world  credited  her.  So,  by  the  same  sing- 
ular contradiction,  Fermor  was  but  slightly  influ- 
enced by  Madame  Fontarini's  millions,  and  the  ex- 
change of  rank  for  money  had  but  a  shadowy  exist- 
ence in  the  mind  of  either  Theodora  or  Fermor.  The 
one  real  appeal  which  Theodora's  money  made  to 
Fermor  was  that  it  would  be  agreeable  to  live  once 
more  at  King's  Lyndon,  for  which  he  had  a  se- 
cret and  sentimental  attachment.  But  to  live  at 
King's  Lyndon  with  a  wrangling  wife,  or  with  Flora 
Bellenden — Fermor  felt  a  wholesome  disgust  at  the 
idea.  Theodora  pleased  his  taste,  and  she  had  that 
indefinable  difference,  that  attraction  of  novelty, 
which  has  made  so  many  international  marriages  for 
American  women.  He  could  safely  predict  what  an 
Englishwoman  would  say  and  do  under  given  cir- 
cumstances, but  he  could  never  predict  what  Theo- 
dora would,  except  that  it  would  be  in  good  taste. 
He  had  the  old-fashioned  English  conception  of  the 
wife,  a  woman  who  would  look  well  at  the  head  of 
his  table.  This  conception,  it  will  be  noted,  merely 
referred  to  the  woman's  looks,  and  not  to  her  con- 
versation, but  Fermor  was  modern  enough  to  admit 
that  the  time  had  come  when  conversation  counted 
for  something. 

He  was  very  keen  concerning  his  election,  and 
proved  an  excellent  campaigner.  His  constituents 
were  surprised  and  pleased  at  his  knowledge  and  his 


152     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

mastery  of  party  affairs.  He  even  proved  himself 
an  effective  speaker,  though  always  brief  and  some- 
what caustic. 

Ashburton  addressed  many  meetings  in  the  large 
manufacturing  towns  and  was  listened  to  with  re- 
spect, if  not  approval.  The  fact,  however,  that  he 
was  a  Roman  Catholic  was  against  him.  The  old 
saying  that  the  Roman  Catholics  in  England  were 
made  up  of  the  highest  and  the  lowest,  applied  ex- 
actly to  the  division  of  Midlandshire.  The  voters 
made  far  less  objection  to  the  old  Roman  Catholic 
families  than  to  converts  like  Ashburton.  The  Eng- 
lish mind  dislikes  the  idea  of  change,  which  it  gen- 
erally confounds  with  revolution,  and  thereby  forces 
those  who  would  be  satisfied  with  gradual  changes 
into  becoming  revolutionists.  Ashburton  was  the 
soul  of  conservatism,  but  the  fact  that  he  had 
changed  his  religion  gave  him  the  popular  char- 
acter of  an  iconoclast.  Reyburn  was  very  ardent  in 
Fermor's  cause,  but  his  advocacy  was  of  doubtful 
advantage. 

On  the  evening  preceding  the  day  when  Fermor 
had  said  he  would  return  for  his  answer,  Theodora, 
for  the  first  time  in  the  two  weeks,  broke  her  silence 
with  her  father  on  the  subject  as  they  sat  on  the 
terrace  in  the  summer  moonlight.  She  felt  herself 
blushing  like  a  girl  when  she  said  to  Seymour: 

"  To-morrow,  you  remember,  Lord  Fermor  comes 
for  his  answer." 

"  Do  you  think  I  could  forget  it?  "  asked  Sey- 


VISITORS    AT    KING'S   LYNDON     153 

mour.  "  When  a  father  is  considering  the  marriage 
of  an  only  child,  the  best  of  daughters,  it  is  not 
likely  to  be  out  of  his  mind  for  very  long.  I  have 
been  praying  and  hoping  that  you  will  accept  Lord 
Fermor,  but  I  haven't  dared  to  say  one  word." 

"  I  shall  accept  Lord  Fermor,"  said  Theodora  in 
a  low  voice.  Seymour  raised  her  tenderly. 

"  You  don't  know  what  it  is  to  me,"  he  said  with 
a  curious  ring  of  pathos  in  his  voice,  "  to  feel  that 
you  will  be  safe  with  a  man's  strong  arm  between 
you  and  the  world.  Money,  such  as  you  have,  and 
as  I  shall  give  you,  is  no  safeguard.  It  is  only  an 
additional  danger.  But  for  that  money,  you  would 
have  been  saved  from  Pietro  Fontarini.  I  have  great 
confidence  in  Lord  Fermor,  and  I  believe  at  last  the 
great  happiness  which  you  deserve  is  beginning." 

Like  the  true  American  father,  it  had  never  en- 
tered into  Seymour's  mind  that  his  daughter  had 
not  aroused  the  most  passionate  attachment  in  Lord 
Fermor,  or  that  he  would  not  be  as  considerate  of 
her  wishes  as  an  American  man  would  be. 

The  father  and  daughter  sat  long  upon  the  ter- 
race talking  together  with  that  unbroken  confidence 
which  had  ever  been  maintained  between  them,  and 
when  Theodora  said  good-night  and  went  to  her 
room,  Seymour  suspected  that  her  heart  was  more 
deeply  involved  than  she  was  willing  to  admit.  The 
thought  gave  him  profound  satisfaction  and  comfort. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

SUNRISE 

THE  next  morning's  post  brought  Theodora  a  note 
from  Fermor.  He  was  coming  from  London  and 
would  reach  King's  Lyndon  at  five  o'clock,  to  re- 
main an  hour,  if  she  would  not  allow  him  to  stay 
longer.  The  composition  of  this  note  gave  Fermor 
much  grim  concern.  The  situation  was  quite  un- 
precedented. He  had  known  of  postponed  engage- 
ments, but  never  of  a  case  when  the  lady  kept  the 
gentleman,  and  an  heir  to  an  earldom  besides,  two 
weeks  in  suspense.  It  was  from  the  British  point  of 
view  an  infringement  of  the  gentleman's  rights.  But, 
as  Fermor  thought  with  a  smile,  everything  he  had 
ever  seen  about  American  women  was  without  prece- 
dent. One  of  the  pleasures  he  anticipated,  in  case 
the  marriage  came  off,  was  telling  Lady  Susan  Bat- 
tle of  being  hung  up  in  the  air  like  Mahomet's  cof- 
fin, for  two  weeks,  not  knowing  whether  he  were  a 
•fiance  or  not,  himself  bound  by  every  obligation, 
while  the  lady  remained  perfectly  and  entirely  free. 
Theodora  would  have  wished  to  see  Fermor  in  the 
very  spot  where  he  had  proposed  marriage  to  her, 
but  as  he  had  touched  but  lightly  on  sentiment  in 
his  words  to  her,  pride  forbade  her.  She  chose  for 
their  rendezvous  the  quaint  old  temple  with  its  stained 

154 


SUNRISE  155 

marble  columns  by  the  side  of  the  lake.  It  was  quiet, 
but  not  secluded,  and  therefore  not  the  place  for  a 
love  scene. 

The  August  afternoon  was  blue  and  bright,  and 
the  gardens,  which  had  resumed  their  splendid  and 
ordered  beauty,  as  a  princess  resumes  her  robes  of 
state,  were  at  last  quiet  and  clear  of  working  people. 
The  lake  lay  cool  and  still  and  shimmering  with 
gold  and  silver,  and  the  velvet  lawns  spread  out, 
darkly  green  in  the  glow  and  glory  of  the  afternoon 
sun. 

Toward  five  o'clock,  Theodora  walked  across  the 
lawn  to  the  temple,  carrying  for  form's  sake  a  book 
in  her  hand.  She  had  picked  it  up  at  random,  and 
did  not  look  at  it  until  she  had  reached  the  temple. 
Then  she  blushed  to  find  it  a  volume  of  Shelley.  She 
thought  there  was  still  time  to  carry  it  back  to  the 
house,  and  she  sped,  with  her  peculiarly  light  and 
graceful  step,  toward  the  yew  alley,  which  was  the 
shortest  way  to  the  house.  Just  as  she  entered  the 
green  solitude,  she  came  face  to  face  with  Fermor. 

"  I  am  a  little  early,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  but  a 
man  coming  upon  my  errand,  generally  is,  or  ought 
to  be,  early." 

Theodora,  in  her  surprise  and  confusion,  dropped 
the  book,  and  Fermor  picked  it  up,  and  without  no- 
ticing the  title,  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

Theodora  made  no  reply,  but  a  delicate  colour  re- 
placed the  usual  soft,  clear  pallor  of  her  cheeks.  This 
pleased  Fermor.  He  hated  a  woman  without  senti- 


ment,  and  was  touched  by  Theodora's  silence,  which 
was  plainly  the  silence  of  controlled  emotion.  With- 
out speaking,  they  walked  between  the  dark-green 
walls  on  either  side  of  them,  not  toward  the  temple, 
but  toward  the  greater  seclusion  of  the  alley.  A 
stray  gleam  of  sunshine  fell  upon  Theodora,  reveal- 
ing the  milky  whiteness  of  her  skin,  against  the  ex- 
treme darkness  of  her  hair  and  eyes,  and  the  slimness 
of  her  figure  in  her  white  gown,  with  a  thin,  white 
scarf  floating  from  her  shoulder.  She  was  not 
strictly  beautiful,  but  Fermor  thought  he  had  never 
seen  a  woman  so  exquisitely  natural,  or  who  sug- 
gested beauty  and  grace  so  much  as  this  slim  black- 
eyed  woman.  He  knew  her  age  perfectly  well,  but 
as  she  suggested  beauty,  so  she  suggested  youth,  in 
her  girlish  figure,  and  the  frank  simplicity  of  her 
expression  and  voice. 

When  they  neared  the  end  of  the  alley,  and 
could  see  plainly  the  wide,  bright  expanse  of  the  lake 
shimmering  in  the  splendour  of  the  August  sun, 
Fermor  laid  a  light  but  detaining  hand  upon  the 
filmy  white  scarf  which  half  enveloped  Theodora's 
slight  figure. 

"You  will  let  me  remain,  will  not  you  not?"  he 
asked. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Theodora  after  a  pause,  in  a  low 
and  composed  voice. 

Fermor  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it,  saying  gently : 
"  I  shall  hope  to  make  you  happier  than  you  have 
yet  been." 


SUNRISE  157 

If  he  had  made  protestations  of  love,  Theodora's 
distrust  would  have  been  instantly  aroused.  She 
respected  him  the  more  for  his  reserve,  but  her 
woman's  instinct  revealed  to  her  that  Fermor  felt 
more  than  he  expressed..  There  was  an  open  admi- 
ration in  his  eye,  a  note  of  tenderness  in  his  voice 
that  said  far  more  than  his  guarded  words.  He  was, 
in  truth,  more  interested  in  Theodora  than  he  was 
prepared  to  avow,  and  looked  keenly  at  her  to  dis- 
cover if  what  he  said  had  moved  or  agitated  her.  He 
saw  a  deep  flush,  like  a  girl's  blush,  suddenly 
flood  her  pale  cheeks,  and  she  glanced  furtively  at 
him. 

The  man  and  the  woman  were  each  subtle,  and 
could  read  some  unspoken  words  in  the  mind  of  each, 
and  could  interpret  glances  and  attitudes.  The 
change  in  their  relations,  which  was  accomplished  in 
a  moment's  time,  gave  each  a  swift  and  satisfactory 
insight  into  the  other. 

Fermor  did  not  reiterate  his  promise,  and  they 
walked  slowly  and  in  palpitating  silence  up  and  down 
the  dark  alley  of  yew  trees.  When  they  were  quite 
secure  from  observation,  Theodora  stopped,  and 
looking  full  into  Fermor's  face  said,  in  a  voice  of 
concentrated  meaning: 

"  I  will  make  you  the  same  promise,  to  do  all  I 
can  for  your  happiness.  You  know  perhaps  some- 
thing of  what  my  life  has  been.  I  can  tell  you  truly 
that  I  never  loved  Pietro  Fontarini.  I  was  but 
eighteen  when  I  married  him,  and  the  fancy  of  a  girl, 


158     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

a  mere  child,  is  not  love.  Within  a  week  of  the  time 
I  married  him — oh,  my  God !  " 

She  clasped  her  hands  together  and  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears  at  the  recollection  of  her  sufferings. 

"He  was  the  basest  creature,"  she  continued  in  a 
trembling  voice.  "  It  is  said  that  one  should  not 
speak  ill  of  the  dead,  but  I  hate  Pietro  Fontarini 
dead,  as  I  hated  him  living.  I  am  a  sincere  woman 
and  it  would  be  false  if  I  said  anything  else.  It  is 
not  only  that  he  caused  the  death  of  my  child,  and 
insulted  and  ill-treated  me,  but  it  was  that  he  never 
told  me  the  truth  in  his  life.  Perhaps  in  some  ways 
I  did  not  make  allowances  enough,  for  I  was  uncom- 
promising, as  most  young  people  are,  but  there  are 
some  things  one  can't  compromise.  Pietro  Fon- 
tarini, besides,  planted  in  my  mind  a  distrust  and 
disbelief  of  God.  You  will  believe  me  when  I  tell  you 
that  love  has  been  unknown  to  me." 

"  I  do  believe  you,"  replied  Fermor  with  deep 
feeling,  "  and  I  knew  as  much  before  you  spoke." 

He  took  her  hand  again,  and  by  that  time  Theo- 
dora's eyes  overflowed,  and  she  was  weeping  and 
trembling.  Fermor  felt  as  if  he  were  receiving  the 
first  confidences  of  a  young  girl. 

Theodora  was  a  woman  of  much  natural  self- 
control  and  Fermor  felt  the  profound  flattery  that 
was  conveyed  by  this  sudden  breaking  down  of  her 
reserve.  He  drew  her  to  him  and  she  leaned  against 
his  shoulder  and  wept  silently,  Fermor  drying  her 
eyes  with  her  little  lace-webbed  handkerchief. 


SUNRISE  159 

"  Forget  all  that  painful  past,"  he  said.  "  I  will 
do  all  I  can  to  make  you  forget  it." 

"  I  will  try,"  answered  Theodora,  recovering  her 
composure  a  little.  "  I  don't  know  why  all  this  should 
have  burst  from  me.  I  had  no  intention  of  saying 
so  much  to  you.  I  don't  know  why  I  did  it." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Fermor,  smiling,  "  you  like  me  a 
little  better  than  you  thought  you  did." 

Half  an  hour  later  they  were  sitting  on  the  ter- 
race, and  Theodora  was  giving  Fermor  his  tea,  and 
they  were  talking  so  calmly  together  that  the  unob- 
servant would  never  have  known  they  had  reached 
and  passed  within  an  hour,  a  crisis  in  their  lives. 
But  Fermor's  usually  cold  face  was  eloquent  with 
meaning,  and  there  was  a  subdued  light  in  Theodora's 
eyes.  They  felt  a  sweet  return  of  their  first  youth. 
They  were  talking  together  upon  the  subject  most 
interesting  to  the  human  mind,  themselves  and  their 
affairs.  Fermor  gained  a  strange  insight  into  Theo- 
dora's mind.  The  attitude  of  the  American  woman 
was  extraordinarily  different  in  many  ways  concern- 
ing domestic  relations  from  the  Englishwoman. 
There  was  no  surrender  of  the  will  on  Theodora's 
part,  but  a  sweet  complaisance  that  was  in  itself  the 
essence  of  flattery  to  a  man.  She  did  not  make  him 
feel  as  if  he  were  the  only  man  in  the  world,  but  as  if, 
knowing  many  men,  she  preferred  to  play  the  haz- 
ardous game  of  marriage  with  him  than  with  any 
other  man.  Of  her  delicacy  and  tact,  especially  in 
regard  to  money,  Fermor  had  ample  proof.  Many 


160     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

things  surprised  and  puzzled  him,  but  he  expected  to 
find  puzzles  and  surprises  in  every  woman.  One  was 
that  Theodora  evidently  expected  that  her  marriage 
would  make  no  changes  whatever  in  her  relations  with 
her  father,  although  she  mentioned  that  Seymour 
had  determined  to  take  up  his  residence  at  Barley- 
wood,  a  small  estate  which  was  a  part  of  the  King's 
Lyndon  property. 

"  Papa  and  I  have  settled  it,"  said  Theodora. 
"  Then  I  can  see  him  every  day,  for  I  am  sure  papa 
could  not  be  happy  very  far  away  from  me,  nor 
could  I  be  happy  with  him  far  away." 

Fermor  agreed,  as  a  newly  engaged  man  does. 
He  had  heard  and  read  of  the  devotion  of  the  Amer- 
ican father  and  he  realised  it  was  something  totally 
different  from  the  relations  of  the  normal  British 
father. 

Fermor,  following  the  custom  of  his  country, 
pressed  for  an  immediate  marriage,  at  which  Theo- 
dora was  genuinely  surprised.  Fermor  found  him- 
self secretly  amused  at  the  unexpected  simplicity,  the 
want  of  sophistication,  in  this  woman  of  thirty  who 
had  been  a  wife  and  a  mother. 

After  tea  they  walked  up  and  down  the  terrace 
together  in  the  darkening  evening.  Unconsciously, 
they  slipped  into  the  attitude  of  lovers,  and  when 
they  leaned  on  the  balustrade,  watching  the  moon 
climbing  into  the  sky,  and  the  soft  shadows  of  the 
night  veil  the  odorous  garden,  Theodora's  hand 
rested  secretly,  and  with  sweet  content,  in  Fermor's. 


SUNRISE  161 

Seymour  had  judiciously  absented  himself  the 
whole  afternoon,  and  when  he  returned  and  saw  Fer- 
mor  and  Theodora  on  the  terrace,  he  felt  safe  in 
asking  Fermor  to  remain  to  dinner.  To  this  Fermor 
coolly  replied  that  he  had  come  prepared  both  to  dine 
and  sleep  if  he  were  asked.  At  this,  Theodora 
laughed,  and  Seymour  smiling,  extended  the  invita- 
tion to  the  next  morning.  Then,  they  separated  to 
dress  for  dinner.  After  Theodora  was  dressed,  she 
heard  her  father  enter  the  little  boudoir,  and  going 
into  the  room,  she  put  her  arms  about  his  neck  and 
kissed  him  with  solemn  tenderness. 

"  I  am  beginning  a  new  life  with  hope — the  hope 
of  happiness.  But,  papa,  nothing,  nothing,  can 
ever  come  between  you  and  me.  Not  all  my  past 
wretchedness,  nor  any  happiness  which  may  be  in 
store  for  me,  will  ever  make  any  difference.  You 
know  that,  don't  you,  papa?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Seymour,  "  I  know  it  well." 

He  held  Theodora  off  a  little  way  and  looked  at 
her  with  profound  pride.  She  had  chosen  for  that 
evening  the  same  silvery  gown  in  which  Fermor  had 
first  seen  her  at  Petersham  House. 

Her  aspect  was  altogether  brighter  and  gayer 
than  Seymour  had  ever  expected  to  see  in  her 
again. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  be  ten  minutes  late  in  coming 
down.  I  daresay  Lord  Fermor  wants  to  have  a  word 
or  two  with  me,  and  I  shall  give  him  his  chance." 

Few  men  anticipate  with  pleasure  the  first  inter- 


162     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

view  with  a  prospective  father-in-law,  but  Fermor's 
was  as  easy  as  could  well  be  expected. 

"You  see,"  said  Seymour,  as  the  two  men  sat  to- 
gether in  the  great,  dim,  rose-scented  drawing-room 
waiting  for  Theodora,  "  my  daughter  is  entirely 
alone  in  the  world.  The  thought  that  I  might  die 
and  leave  her  unprotected  has  been  a  most  painful 
one  to  me.  It  was  that  which  made  me  encourage 
her  marriage  with  that " 

Seymour's  singularly  mild  and  placid  face  grew 
dark  and  almost  distorted  as  he  spoke. 

" — That  scoundrel,  Pietro  Fontarini.  I  am  not  a 
man  of  the  world,  Lord  Fermor.  I  made  my  money 
very  rapidly  and  even  accidentally,  and  for  certain 
reasons  I  have  lived  abroad.  I  don't  understand  the 
structure  of  European  society  at  all,  and  I  don't 
seem  to  be  able  to  make  myself  very  well  understood 
by  Europeans,  although  better  with  you  and  Major 
Ashburton  than  any  men  I  have  met  so  far.  After 
my  experience  with  Fontarini,  you  can't  be  surprised 
that  I  should  take  every  possible  precaution  as  far 
as  I  can  to  secure  my  daughter's  happiness  and  in- 
dependence, but  I  can  assure  you  from  a  knowledge 
of  her  character  that  if  you  win  her  affection  you 
will  never  be  made  to  feel,  either  by  her  or  by  me, 
that  the  money  is  hers." 

Seymour  then  coolly  named  a  sum  and  the  condi- 
tions upon  which  it  was  to  be  settled  upon  Theodora 
and  any  children  which  she  might  have,  that  was  so 
large  and  on  such  generous  terms  that  Fermor  in- 


SUNRISE  163 

voluntarily  showed  surprise.  Seymour  smiled  his 
slow  smile. 

"  Don't  think,"  he  said,  "  that  this  is  a  mere 
dowry  for  my  daughter,  with  more  to  come.  It  is 
three-fourths  of  what  I  have,  and  the  part  I  have 
kept  for  myself  is  three  or  four  times  as  much  as  I'll 
spend,  because  my  tastes  are  very  simple.  I  shall 
go  to  live  at  Barleywood,  and  come  over  to  see 
Theodora  every  day,  and  if  I  don't  come,  she  will 
come  to  see  me.  And  if  I  am  ill  you  may  depend 
upon  it  that  Theodora  won't  give  anyone  much  of 
her  society  until  I  am  well  again.  That's  my  daugh- 
ter, my  Theodora,  and  that's  the  material  of  which 
good  wives  are  made." 

At  that  moment  Theodora  entered  the  drawing- 
room.  There  was  something  angelic  in  her  appear- 
ance as  the  glow  of  the  shaded  lamps  and  the  candles 
in  the  sconces  of  the  great  room  shone  upon  her  shim- 
mering silvery  gown  that  looked  like  a  beam  of  moon- 
light. She  was  quite  devoid  of  self-consciousness 
and  far  more  composed  and  unembarrassed  than  was 
Fermor.  This,  too,  struck  Fermor's  sense  of  humour. 
His  American  fiancee  was  full  of  the  unexpected. 

"  It  is  all  settled,  my  love,"  said  Seymour,  rising 
with  Fermor  as  Theodora  came  up  to  them.  "  I 
think  you  will  be  happy,  and  my  mind  is  at  ease 
concerning  you." 

Fermor  said  what  was  expected  of  him,  and  said 
it  as  a  sincere  man  should.  Then  they  went  in  to  din- 
ner, at  which  Theodora  presided  with  a  soft  bright- 


164.     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ness,  and  with  so  little  embarrassment  that  the  but- 
ler and  footmen,  accustomed  to  English  -fiancees, 
concluded  the  whole  business  had  gone  wrong,  and 
Lord  Fermor  had  not  proposed. 

Fermor,  at  bed  time,  was  pleased  with  the  thought- 
fulness  which  put  him  in  his  old  rooms.  Reyburn, 
taking  a  nurse's  privilege,  came  to  talk  with  him, 
while  he  smoked  his  last  cigar  in  the  room  that  had 
been  his  study,  and  looking  out  through  the  open 
window  on  the  still  summer  night.  Reyburn  was  full 
of  praises  of  the  new  people  at  King's  Lyndon. 

"  When  Madame  Fontarini  told  me  you  would 
probably  spend  the  night,  I  said  to  her: 

"  *  Perhaps,  mem,  Lord  Fermor  would  like  his  old 
rooms,'  and  she  said:  *I  was  just  about  to  tell  you 
to  prepare  those  rooms.' ' 

When  Fermor  was  left  alone  he  still  sat  at  the 
window  and  heard  the  great  clock  in  the  clock  tower 
at  the  end  of  the  terrace,  chime  twelve,  one,  and  two 
o'clock.  The  moon  had  gone  down,  but  the  stars 
glittered  brightly  in  the  unclouded  night  sky.  A 
soft  wind,  that  seemed  to  come  from  a  far-off 
world,  fitfully  stirred  the  trees  and  waved  the 
ivy  that  curtained  the  w^all.  Fermor  felt  a  strange 
peace  upon  his  soul.  He  was  surprised  that  he  did 
not  feel  exactly  the  contrary,  which  might  well  be 
when  one  faces  a  cataclysmal  change  in  one's 
life  like  marriage.  To  make  this  composure  of  his 
soul  still  stranger,  he  was  conscious  that  the  whole 
viewpoint  of  marriage  was  different  on  the  part  of 


SUNRISE  165 

Theodora  and  her  father  than  any  to  which  he  had 
been  accustomed.  The  settlements  offered  by  Sey- 
mour were  magnificent,  as  far  as  his  daughter  was 
concerned,  but  made  absolutely  no  provision  for 
Fermor  in  the  event  of  Theodora's  death.  He  would 
have  been  perfectly  justified,  according  to  his  code, 
in  requiring  a  settlement  on  himself,  and  certainly 
would  have  demanded  it  had  he  been  marrying  an 
Englishwoman,  but  Fermor  knew  instinctively  the 
least  mention  of  a  settlement  on  himself  would  be  re- 
garded as  mercenary  to  the  last  degree.  Even  with 
this  unprecedented  uncertainty  thrown  in,  he  felt 
at  ease.  He  even  smiled  to  himself  at  the  effect  of 
this,  which  was  practically  to  put  him  on  his  good 
behaviour  as  a  husband  and  to  keep  him  there,  and 
laughed  in  anticipation  of  Lord  Castlemaine's  in- 
dignation and  Lady  Susan  Battle's  fury. 

Theodora's  confession  touched  Fermor  deeply,  and 
he  asked  himself  if  it  were  necessary  for  him  to  con- 
fess anything  to  Theodora,  about  Flora  Bellenden, 
for  instance.  A  very  short  reflection  determined  him 
to  say  nothing  specific.  He  would  tell  Theodora 
that  he  had  some  things  to  repent  and  to  be  ashamed 
of  in  his  former  life,  but  that  he  had  taken  a  reso- 
lution of  amendment  the  very  day  and  hour  in  which 
he  first  saw  her.  A  sense  of  satisfaction  pervaded 
Fermor's  mind;  he  felt  like  a  man  going  into  battle 
for  the  first  time,  and  being  surprised  and  pleased 
at  his  own  coolness. 

Next  morning  he  spent  some  hours  with  Theo- 


166     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

dora  before  leaving  by  the  noon  train  for  London. 
Theodora  was  out  early  among  her  flower  beds, 
according  to  her  custom,  and  Fermor,  while  dress- 
ing, saw  her  pacing  up  and  down  the  edge  of  the 
lake,  and  throwing  bread  to  the  waterfowl. 

After  breakfast  Fermor  and  Theodora  walked  to- 
gether through  the  park.  New  surprises  awaited 
him  at  every  point  in  his  interview  with  Theodora. 
He  had  expected  that  the  day  for  the  marriage 
would  be  named  before  he  left  King's  Lyndon  and 
was  thoroughly  staggered  when  Theodora  said  she 
thought  it  would  be  best  to  wait  until  after  Christ- 
mas at  least,  for  many  reasons,  and  that  the  engage- 
ment must  be  kept  absolutely  secret  until  not  more 
than  a  month  before  the  marriage  took  place. 

"  You  see,"  she  said  calmly,  as  they  stood  in  front 
of  the  little  temple  and  watched  the  ducks  sedately 
making  their  toilettes  in  the  rushes,  "  the  restora- 
tion of  the  house  is  well  under  way,  and  my  father 
wishes  me  to  be  here  to  see  that  things  are  properly 
done.  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  " 

"  I  am  trying  to  accommodate  my  British  mind 
to  your  American  ideals,"  replied  Fermor,  laugh- 
ing still  more.  "  It  is  all  perfectly  right,  of 
course." 

"  But  you  never  saw  a  daughter  who  had  quite 
so  many  privileges  as  I,"  replied  Theodora,  smiling. 
"  In  America,  daughters  have  great  privileges,  but 
I  believe  even  in  America  my  father  would  be  reck- 
oned the  most  indulgent  of  fathers.  However,  don't 


SUNRISE  167 

you  see  that  it  is  best  not  to  arrange  for  our  mar- 
riage until  after  Christmas,  when  everything  will 
be  in  order  ? " 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  do,"  replied  Fermor  like  a 
gallant  gentleman. 

Nevertheless,  he  did  see  the  sound  sense  in  what 
Theodora  said.  The  plans  were  all  made,  and  the 
work,  costing  a  very  large  sum  of  money,  then  going 
on,  required  someone  to  superintend  it.  Theodora 
was  plainly  that  someone,  and  not  Seymour.  If 
the  marriage  should  take  place  immediately,  either 
Fermor  and  Theodora  must  go  away,  or  if  they  re- 
mained, they  would  be  embarrassed  at  every  turn  by 
the  unfinished  condition  of  their  house.  Then,  too, 
Fermor's  election  was  another  reason  for  delay.  But 
what  Fermor  could  not  understand  was,  the  reason 
for  not  acknowledging  the  engagement. 

"  It  would  be  useless  and  a  little  embarrassing," 
said  Theodora,  with  gentle  conviction.  "  It  is  no 
one's  affair  except  yours  and  mine.  I  believe  that 
you  think  it  a  little  disreputable  to  keep  it  quiet." 

"  Well — er — an  engaged  man  or  woman  going 
around  with  the  engagement  unacknowledged  is 
looked  upon  as  somewhat  fraudulent,  but  I  suppose 
we  must  learn  of  our  cousins,  the  Americans." 

"  Decidedly  you  must,  but  we  may  arrange  it  in 
this  way — that  no  engagement  shall  exist  until  after 
Christmas,  we  will  say." 

Fermor  looked  at  Theodora  with  admiration. 

"  Where  did  you  find  out  all  of  these  ingenious 


168     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

American  subterfuges?  You  were  not  brought  up  in 
America;  is  it  in  the  blood?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Theodora,  "  it  is  in  the  blood. 
I  have  not  seen  my  native  country  since  I  was  ten 
years  old.  I  was  educated  in  France  and  have  spent 
my  life  in  Italy  and  England,  and  yet  I  feel,  I  see 
the  gulf  between  the  American  and  European  way 
of  looking  at  things." 

Fermor  found  himself  acquiescing,  if  not  actually 
agreeing,  with  Theodora  In  a  manner  which  con- 
vinced him  that  he  was  fast  deeply  slipping  in  love 
with  her. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

LORD  CASTLEMAINE  is  PUZZLED 

FERMOB.  returned  to  London  to  meet  Lord  Castle- 
maine  by  appointment.  The  town  was  quite  de- 
serted, but  Castlemaine  House  stood  open  all  the 
year  round.  Lord  Castlemaine  heard  Fermor's  ac- 
count of  the  arrangement,  the  proposition  concern- 
ing money,  and  all  the  other  details  of  the  engage- 
ment, including  the  secrecy  of  it,  with  amazement. 
He  had,  however,  that  perfect  toleration  of  a  man 
of  the  world,  and  his  only  comment  was: 

"  I  hereby  reserve  for  myself  the  pleasure  of  tell- 
ing these  details  to  Susan  Battle.  Especially  the 
not  acknowledging  the  engagement.  Ha !  ha !  " 

Lord  Castlemaine  laughed  a  great  laugh  of 
amusement  and  fury. 

Then  he  begun  to  talk  about  Fermor's  election 
prospects,  which  were  good,  and  announced  his  will- 
ingness to  make  several  addresses  to  the  voters  of 
the  division.  Fermor  referred  him  to  his  election 
managers,  for  Lord  Castlemaine's  political  services 
were  always  particularly  dreaded  by  those  whom  he 
offered  to  assist. 

"  It  is  a  pity  you  can't  have  the  help  of  your 
future  wife  in  the  present  election,"  said  Lord 

169 


170     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Castlemaine.  "  That  would  seem  a  reason  for  hav- 
ing the  marriage  take  place  at  once." 

"  She  made  it  a  reason  for  postponing  the  mar- 
riage," answered  Fermor.  "  She  has  never  con- 
templated speaking  on  platforms,  and  has  a  prej- 
udice against  it,  and  says  she  would  not  know  what 
to  say." 

"  She  needn't  say  anything — none  of  them  ever 
do.  But  she  could  simply  sit  on  the  platform,  utter 
a  few  pretty  things,  and  wear  a  fine  gown.  I  shall 
tell  her  so  if  I  have  a  chance." 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  not  a  man  to  wait  for 
chances,  but  to  make  them.  Two  days  afterward 
he  appeared  at  King's  Lyndon  to  make,  as  he  told 
Fermor,  his  recommendations  in  person.  Lord  Castle- 
maine found  Theodora  deep  in  consultation  with  an 
eminent  landscape  gardener  from  London,  who  was 
looking  slightly  puzzled  at  the  authority  Theodora 
assumed  in  her  father's  absence. 

"  I  was  just  saying  to  Mr.  Clemsen,"  she  said  to 
Lord  Castlemaine,  "  that  my  father  and  I  had  de- 
termined upon  a  restoration  of  the  old  Dutch  gar- 
dens, beyond  the  Italian  gardens,  just  as  they  were 
a  hundred  years  ago.  It  is  not  that  we  are  afraid 
of  innovation,  but  that  we  think  the  original  plan 
was  good." 

"  Excellent,"  answered  Lord  Castlemaine.  "  The 
place  is  mentioned  in  Lord  Hervey's  Memoirs,  and 
lie  says  that  the  plan  of  the  gardens,  especially  the 


LORD    CASTLEMAINE    IS    PUZZLED     171 

Dutch  gardens,  he  considered  better  than  those  at 
Kew." 

"  But  we  have  advanced  a  little "  begun 

Clemsen. 

"  Retrograded,  you  mean,"  interrupted  Lord 
Castlemaine.  "  The  old  Italians  knew  more  about 
gardens  than  ever  we  shall  know,  and  the  old 
Romans  antedated  them.  The  Dutch  even  knew 
more  than  we  do.  No,  my  dear  Madame  Fontarini, 
you  have  shown  your  usual  good  taste  in  restoring 
the  gardens.  I  don't  say  that  from  prejudice, 
because  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  never  had  any  par- 
ticular attachment  to  this  place.  It  ate  up  a  great 
deal  of  money  when  I  kept  it  going,  and  I  could 
neither  take  it  up  to  London  with  me,  nor  bring 
London  down  here." 

Theodora  invited  him  into  the  house,  but  Lord 
Castlemaine,  who  meant  to  have  a  talk  in  which  he 
could  air  his  opinions  freely,  and  could  raise  his 
voice  if  necessary,  suggested  to  Theodora  that  they 
walk  through  the  shrubbery. 

Once  alone  on  the  velvet  grass  in  the  summer 
morning,  Lord  Castlemaine  expressed  his  pleasure 
in  very  handsome  terms  at  the  coming  marriage. 
No  man  could  turn  a  compliment  better  than  the 
Earl  of  Castlemaine,  and  Theodora's  woman's  pride 
was  flattered  by  this  polished  savage  being  so  ami- 
able to  her. 

"  The  only  fault  I  find,"  he  said,  "  is  the  post- 


,172     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ponement  of  the  marriage.  As  to  the  engagement, 
it  is  in  England  a  base  thing  to  let  a  -fiance  go  at 
large  without  ticketing  him,  but  we  are  learning  of 
the  Americans,  my  dear  lady,  a  great  many  artful 
things.  So  if  Fermor  wins  you  in  the  end,  we  may 
adopt  some  of  your  interesting  methods.  But  I  do 
think  it  a  pity  that  Fermor  has  not  the  benefit  of 
your  services  in  the  campaign,  as  you  call  it  in 
America.  You  should  be  married  at  once,  and  as 
Lady  Fermor,  you  could  go  on  the  platform  and 
you  would  be  a  great  success." 

"  I  go  on  the  platform !  "  cried  Theodora.  "  What 
could  I  possibly  say  that  any  voter  would  want  to 
hear?  " 

"  My  charming  friend,  you  need  not  say  any- 
thing. Show  your  attractive  self  and  tell  the  voters 
your  ambition  is  that  your  husband  shall  be  an 
M.  P." 

"  Nobody  can  convince  others  who  is  not  himself 
or  herself  convinced,"  replied  Theodora,  with  the 
same  gentle  decisiveness  that  was  always  astonish- 
ing Fermor. 

It  astonished  and  diverted  Lord  Castlemaine,  who 
said  to  himself  that  Lady  Susan  Battle  would  find  it 
no  merry  jest  to  demolish  this  soft-voiced,  clear- 
eyed  woman,  and  he  promised  himself  the  pleasure 
of  being  present  if  possible  on  some  of  the  occa- 
sions when  Lady  Susan  Battle  should,  as  she  cer- 
tainly would,  attempt  to  make  a  Roman  holiday  of 
the  future  Lady  Fermor.  Lord  Castlemaine  had 


LORD    CASTLEMAINE    IS    PUZZLED     173 

come  down  with  the  fixed  intention  of  doing  two 
things.  One  was,  hastening  the  marriage ;  the  other, 
of  getting  some  better  terms  out  of  Seymour  for 
Fermor.  This  last  might  be  called  a  purely  disin- 
terested effort  to  obtain  justice  for  an  Englishman. 

After  a  very  agreeable  walk  and  interesting  con- 
versation with  Theodora,  Lord  Castlemaine  discov- 
ered, as  Fermor  had  done,  that  he  was  dealing  with 
a  new  variety  of  woman,  known  to  him  heretofore 
in  theory,  but  not  in  practice.  Her  native  language 
was  English,  but  with  that  exception  she  was 
markedly  unlike  an  Englishwoman  or  any  other  va- 
riety of  woman  with  whom  Lord  Castlemaine  was 
familiar  either  in  life  or  literature.  As  in  Lord 
Fermor's  case,  Lord  Castlemaine  was  secretly 
amused  and  interested  at  the  infinite  difference  be- 
tween what  he  expected  Theodora  to  say  and  do  and 
what  she  said  and  did.  Always  smiling,  composed, 
and  complaisant  in  manner,  she  innocently  assumed, 
meanwhile,  that  she  was  mistress  of  the  situation. 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  interview,  Lord  Castlemaine, 
who  never  blinked  the  truth  to  himself,  however  he 
might  do  it  to  others,  was  convinced  that  he  had 
been  completely  unhorsed  in  his  first  tilt,  and  that 
Theodora  would  not  be  married  until  it  suited  her 
sovereign  pleasure. 

At  luncheon  Seymour  appeared,  and  was  the  soul 
of  simple  and  kindly  hospitality.  There  was  neither 
elation  nor  patronage  in  his  manner  and  an  entire 
absence  of  self-consciousness  both  on  his  part  and 


Theodora's.  Lord  Castlemaine  thought  he  had  never 
seen  so  unembarrassed  a  fiancee  as  his  future  daugh- 
ter-in-law. 

After  luncheon  Lord  Castlemaine  expected  to  be 
left  alone  with  Seymour  when  he  would  broach  the 
question  of  Fermor's  financial  terms.  Himself  having 
treated  Fermor  with  the  greatest  injustice  and 
rapine,  as  it  were,  he  was,  like  many  other  men,  will- 
ing to  force  what  he  considered  justice  for  Fermor 
from  another  man.  Besides,  Lord  Castlemaine  had 
in  him  the  ineradicable  germ  of  respect  for  his  order. 
After  all,  Fermor  was  conferring  a  great  honour,  so 
Lord  Castlemaine  honestly  thought,  upon  this  un- 
known and  obscure  American  woman,  whose  sole 
title  to  equality  he  considered  was  her  marriage,  dis- 
astrous though  it  might  be,  into  the  great  Roman 
family  of  Fontarini.  He  could  not  but  think  that 
Seymour  would  prove  more  malleable  in  the  matter 
of  money  than  Theodora  had  been  on  the  question 
of  the  date  of  the  marriage. 

When  the  two  men  went  out  on  the  terrace  to 
smoke,  however,  Seymour,  after  his  custom,  drew 
Theodora's  arm  within  his  arm.  She  struck  the 
match  for  her  father's  cigar,  and  showed  him  the 
prettiest  little  attentions  imaginable. 

The  idea  that  Lord  Castlemaine  might  have  some- 
thing to  discuss  with  Seymour  plainly  did  not  enter 
either  Seymour's  or  Theodora's  mind.  When  the 
cigars  were  finished,  Lord  Castlemaine  with  his  usual 
frankness  said  to  Seymour: 


"  There  are  some  matters  I  should  like  very  much 
to  discuss  with  you  in  private.  Perhaps  Madame 
Fontarini  will  excuse  us  for  half  an  hour." 

Theodora  rose  with  a  slightly  heightened  colour, 
and  regretted  that  she  had  not  left  her  future 
father-in-law  alone  with  her  father. 

When  she  had  stepped  indoors,  Lord  Castlemaine 
said: 

"  I  think  it  would  be  rather  better  if  our  conver- 
sation were  in  a  more  private  place." 

"  Come  into  my  study,"  replied  Seymour. 

Lord  Castlemaine  followed  his  host  into  a  small 
room,  up  a  flight  of  stairs,  one  of  the  few  which  the 
workmen  had  not  invaded. 

"  It  is  next  my  daughter's  boudoir/'  said  Sey- 
mour, shutting  the  door.  "  It  is  very  convenient  on 
that  account.  But  my  daughter  is  not  in  her  bou- 
doir at  present  and  it  is  quite  private." 

Lord  Castlemaine  knew  the  room  well  and  its  un- 
changed appearance  gave  him  a  feeling  as  if  King's 
Lyndon  had  not  yet  entirely  passed  out  of  his  pos- 
seesion.  He  began  with  his  usual  directness. 

"  Fermor  has  told  me,"  he  said,  "  of  the  really 
magnificent  settlements  you  have  made  upon  Ma- 
dame Fontarini,  and  I  suppose  he  is  very  much  in 
love  with  your  daughter,  who  is  certainly  charming 
enough  in  all  conscience,  to  have  agreed  to  the  terms 
on  which  it  is  given  her.  For  himself,  there  is  abso- 
lutely no  provision  in  the  event  of  the  future  Lady 
Fermor's  death,  and  even  if  there  are  children,  every- 


176    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

thing  appears  to  be  tied  up  so  that  Fermor  is  made 
a  pensioner,  so  to  speak,  upon  his  children." 

This  plain  and  accurate  statement  of  the  case  did 
not  appear  to  shock  or  surprise  Seymour.  On  the 
contrary,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  he  said: 

"  I  think  you  have  stated  it  clearly  enough.  I'm 
doing  for  my  daughter  what  any  American  father 
would  do,  I  think.  If  Lord  Fermor  shows  my  daugh- 
ter the  kindness  and  affection  for  which  I  hope,  I'll 
say  to  you,  as  I  said  to  him,  that  you  will  never  be 
made  to  feel  either  by  her  or  by  me  that  the  money 
came  to  him  by  marriage  instead  of  inheritance." 

"  Very  pretty  that,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine,  "  but 
absolutely  outlandish  according  to  British  ideals. 
Everything  connected  with  marriage  is  a  compro- 
mise, and  our  ideas  concerning  a  woman's  fortune 
in  marriage  are  so  radically  different  from  American 
ideas  that  mutual  concessions  must  be  made.  What 
we  would  consider  perfectly  justifiable  conduct  on 
the  part  of  a  husband,  you  might,  according  to 
the  American  notion,  consider  quite  unjustifiable. 
The  future  Lady  Fermor  might  withhold  from  her 
husband  for  reasons  not  accepted  by  us,  money 
which  we  would  consider  him  justly  entitled  to  claim. 
And  if  there  are  children,  they  would  find  out  eventu- 
ally their  father's  state  of  dependence,  and  the  whole 
position  would  be  intolerable  for  Fermor." 

Seymour  had  listened  with  his  usual  mild  manner, 
and  Lord  Castlemaine  concluded  that  as  a  man  of 
business,  Sevmour  was  able  to  see  the  matter  from 


LORD    CASTLEMAINE    IS    PUZZLED     177 

the  practical  point  of  view.  He  was  disillusioned, 
however,  when  Seymour,  after  a  pause  replied  with 
calm  deliberation,  tapping  a  pencil  lightly  on  the 
table  to  emphasise  what  he  said  as  he  looked  straight 
into  Lord  Castlemaine's  brilliant  eyes,  shining  under 
his  beetling  brows : 

"  I'm  afraid  there  isn't  much  room  for  compromise 
in  this  matter.  If  Lord  Fermor  feels  that  he  is  not 
being  well  treated,  he  is  at  perfect  liberty  to  with- 
draw now  and  at  any  moment  up  to  the  very  hour 
that  the  marriage  is  to  take  place,  and  in  this  I  speak 
for  my  daughter  as  well  as  for  myself.  All  Lord 
Fermor  has  to  do  is  to  intimate  what  you  say  and 
the  thing  is  settled.  As  a  result  of  keeping  the  en- 
gagement entirely  secret,  my  daughter  will  not  be 
embarrassed  by  Lord  Fermor's  withdrawal." 

Here  was  the  unexpected  with  a  vengeance.  The 
heir  presumptive  to  an  earldom  in  England  is  not 
suffered  to  withdraw  from  a  marriage  engagement 
at  the  least  intimation,  and  without  the  slightest 
smirch  upon  his  honour.  There  could  b'e  no  doubt 
of  Seymour's  sincerity,  and  that  he  knew  what  he 
was  talking  about.  Lord  Castlemaine,  a  little  stag- 
gered, said,  following  a  pause: 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  any  question  of  with- 
drawal. I  am  inclined  to  suspect  Lord  Fermor  of 
being,  as  I  told  you  before,  very  much  charmed  with 
Madame  Fontarini." 

"  I  suppose  he  must  be  if  he  wants  to  marry  her," 
replied  Seymour  placidly,  "  and  my  daughter  is  a 


178     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

woman  very  well  calculated  to  make  a  man  fall  in 
love  with  her.  I'm  very  proud  of  my  daughter,  Lord 
Castlemaine." 

"  I  never  saw  an  American  father  who  wasn't 
proud  of  a  daughter,"  replied  Lord  Castlemaine  with 
a  cheerful  grin,  "  and  I  have  seen  some  American 
daughters  by  no  means  as  charming  as  Madame  Fon- 
tarini,  who  were  regarded  with  awe  and  delight  by 
their  adoring  parents,  though  not  by  anybody  else. 
However,  to  return  from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete. 
If  there  are  children,  as  I  say,  it  would  appear  as  if 
Lord  Fermor  would  have  no  control  whatever  over 
their  property.  Everything  would  be  in  the  hands 
of  trustees." 

"  He  would  have  the  moral  influence  of  a  good 
father,"  answered  Seymour,  "  and  if  he  is  not  a  good 
father  and  didn't  treat  them  properly,  I  should 
simply  go,  as  any  other  American  father  would  do, 
and  take  my  daughter  and  her  children  away  from 
him." 

Lord  Castlemaine  thought  that  life  held  no  more 
surprises  for  him,  but  this  cool  statement  made  by  a 
man  whom  he  considered  simple  in  some  ways,  though 
clear-headed  enough  in  others,  astounded  him. 

"  I  think,  you  might  find  great  difficulty  in  carry- 
ing out  this  plan  in  England,"  said  Lord  Castle- 
maine ;  "  the  courts  would  never  permit  it." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  replied  Seymour,  "  but  that  is  a 
conclusive  reason  for  making  Lord  Fermor's  income 
dependent  upon  his  good  treatment  of  my  daugh- 


LORD    CASTLEMAINE   IS    PUZZLED     179 

ter.  In  America  a  father  has  no  legal  right  to  his 
daughter's  children,  but  I  can  truly  say  I  never 
heard  of  an  instance  where  a  father  to  protect  his 
daughter  from  an  unkind  husband,  failed  to  take 
her  children  with  her,  because  the  woman,  you  see, 
won't  leave  her  children  behind.  That  is  the  un- 
written law,  and  the  unwritten  law  is  much  more 
closely  observed  in  America  than  the  written  law. 
It's  up  to  the  son-in-law  then  to  get  the  courts  to  al- 
low him  to  see  his  children,  but  the  courts  are  in- 
variably very  chary  in  giving  free  access  on  the 
part  of  a  bad  father  or  husband  to  his  children. 
The  burden  of  proof  is  upon  him,  and  the  court  is 
generally  dead  set  against  him." 

"  You  wouldn't  find  an  English  court  dead  set 
against  the  man  under  those  circumstances,"  said 
Lord  Castlemaine. 

"Probably  not,  but  I  assure  you  that  if  my 
daughter  and  her  children  were  ill  treated  I  would 
get  her  out  of  her  husband's  hands  if  it  cost  me 
every  dollar  I  have  on  earth.  In  her  marriage  with 
Pietro  Fontarini,  she  kept  many  things  from  me, 
knowing  very  well  what  I  would  do,  and  I  for  a  long 
time,  not  looking  beneath  the  surface,  didn't  know 
her  sufferings.  I  made  a  blunder  of  it  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end  of  that  marriage,  and  I  deter- 
mined that  if  my  daughter  ever  marries  again,  I 
would  protect  her  against  such  awful  possibilities." 

Lord  Castlemaine  sat  silent.  He  was  aware  that 
he  had  received  an  ultimatum,  and  that  it  was  use- 


180     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

less  to  say  another  word  on  the  subject.  While  he 
was  turning  over  the  matter  of  this  unreasonable- 
ness on  the  part  of  American  fathers,  Seymour  spoke 
with  a  note  in  his  voice  which  Lord  Castlemaine  had 
not  before  heard. 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  in  any  way  represent  Lord 
Fermor  in  this  matter?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Lord  Castlemaine.  "  I  told  him 

that  he  was  very  much .  Well,  never  mind  what 

I  said,  but  there  was  no  suggestion  on  his  part  in 
any  attempt  to  change  the  terms  of  settlement." 

"  Consider  well,  Lord  Castlemaine,"  said  Sey- 
mour, fixing  his  eyes  on  Lord  Castlemaine,  "  and 
consult  your  memory  again  to  make  absolutely 
sure." 

Lord  Castlemaine  shook  his  head. 

"Fermor  did  not  say  a  word  looking  to  a  demand 
for  a  change  in  the  settlements." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,  for  the  good  opinion  I  wish 
to  entertain  of  Lord  Fermor.  If  this  suggestion 
had  come  from  him  in  the  remotest  degree,  or  even 
if  he  had  known  the  object  of  your  interview,  the 
engagement  would  have  been  off  at  this  moment." 

Lord  Castlemaine  sat  plunged  forward  in  his  chair 
looking  through  the  window  at  the  wide  green  lawns, 
the  glowing  gardens,  the  ornamental  water,  basking 
in  the  still,  quiet  summer  afternoon. 

What  a  people  were  these  Americans  anyhow! 
There  was  Theodora,  who  had  in  her,  Lord  Castle- 
maine was  well  convinced,  nothing  of  surrender  that 


LORD    CASTLEMAINE    IS    PUZZLED     181 

was  not  voluntary.  Lady  Susan  Battle  in  her  most 
voluminous  crimson  satin  or  enormous  purple  velvet 
gown,  with  her  tallest  feathers  and  her  largest  gloves 
and  shoes,  would  not  make  the  slightest  impression 
upon  this  delicately  made,  gentle-voiced  woman.  And 
here  was  Seymour,  this  provincial  American,  with 
his  habit  of  saying  "  Sir,"  upon  unnecessary  occa- 
sions, and  his  general  want  of  sophistication,  who 
coolly  proposed  to  throw  over  Fermor  if  the  least 
effort  were  made  to  put  him  on  a  footing  which  no 
English  father  would  dream  of  denying  to  him. 
And  the  worst  of  it  was  there  was  no  doing  any- 
thing with  either  of  these  recalcitrants. 

Lord  Castlemaine  rose,  grinning.  He  rather  en- 
joyed his  defeat;  it  had  in  it  some  comic  elements, 
and,  after  all,  it  was  Fermor,  and  not  he,  who  was 
being  robbed  of  his  own,  so  to  speak.  He  real- 
ised that  Seymour  might  have  retaliated  by  remind- 
ing him  that  he  had  not  himself  paid  the  slightest 
regard  to  Fermor's  rights,  but  Lord  Castlemaine 
concluded  that  rights  of  property  were  so  little  un- 
derstand by  Americans  that  Seymour  would  scarcely 
appreciate  that  point.  There  was  clearly  nothing 
more  to  be  said,  and  Lord  Castlemaine  took  his  leave. 
The  coming  discomfiture  of  Lady  Susan  Battle,  he 
concluded,  would  be  more  entertaining  and  dramatic 
even  than  he  expected,  and  it  would  be  very  much 
enlivened  by  what  he  himself  had  to  tell  of  his  own 
unhorsing. 


CHAPTER  XV 

LIGHT!  MORE  LIGHT! 

FERMOR  as  a  lover  proved  a  model  of  good  taste 
and  discretion.  His  electoral  labours  in  the  division 
accounted  for  his  being  frequently  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  especially  at  King's  Lyndon,  in  order  to 
retain  as  much  as  possible  of  the  interest  he  had  once 
possessed  there.  The  upset  condition  of  the  house 
and  the  necessity  of  superintending  the  great  masses 
of  work,  kept  Theodora  much  at  home,  so  that  there 
was  little  beyond  the  general  suspicion  attached  to 
every  man  in  Europe  who  looks  twice  at  a  woman, 
to  connect  Theodora's  name  with  Fermor's. 

While  Fermor  was  busy  with  his  election  matters, 
and  meanwhile  doing  an  immense  amount  of  reading 
on  parliamental  affairs,  Theodora  was  pursuing  a 
new  train  of  thought.  For  the  first  time  in  ten  years 
she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  sky  above  her.  She 
began  to  ask  herself  the  true  meaning  of  it.  Were 
she  and  all  the  multitudes  of  human  souls  that  had 
ever  existed,  really  puppets  in  the  awful  sport  of 
Destiny,  and  was  the  Power  that  creates,  a  vast 
blundering,  bungling  force  that  could  make  things, 
but  could  not  control  them  when  made?  She  began 
to  feel  for  the  first  time  a  strong  craving  for  light. 
Before  this,  she  had  demanded  help  from  God,  first 

182 


LIGHT!    MORE    LIGHT!  183 

with  eager  confidence,  then  with  agonised  supplica- 
tion, and  at  last  in  sullen  and  silent  resentment. 
Two  or  three  times  while  in  London  some  impulse 
had  drawn  her  within  the  open  door  of  a  church. 
They  had  been  Roman  Catholic  churches,  simply  be- 
cause their  doors  were  open.  The  freedom  to  come 
and  go,  the  dim  seclusion,  the  faint  but  undying 
light  that  burned  before  the  altar,  gave  her  a  sense 
of  repose,  and  the  subtle  feeling  of  the  Divine  Pres- 
ence. She  found  herself  involuntarily  kneeling  and 
bowing  her  head  upon  her  hands.  Then,  the  memory 
of  her  Italian  life  would  return  to  her,  the  hours  that 
she  spent  kneeling  on  the  stones  of  Roman  churches, 
imploring  Jesus  if  He  were  really  present  on  the 
altar,  to  help  her,  as  He  had  helped  those  who  came 
to  Him  in  the  Judean  villages  by  the  shores  of  Gali- 
lee, in  the  house  of  Simon,  the  rich  leper,  and  Peter, 
the  illiterate  fisherman.  But  no  help  had  come,  and  as 
this  thought  forced  itself  into  her  mind  she  would 
feel  hatred  and  scorn  for  a  God  who  could  help  His 
creatures  and  would  not.  This  feeling  was  always 
more  poignant  when  she  was  in  a  church,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  there  were  a  Presence  there,  a  God  who 
could  help,  but  would  not. 

She  recalled  the  gorgeous  Italian  basilicas,  the 
magnificent  ceremonials,  the  multitudes  of  kneeling 
people,  the  lights,  the  incense,  the  Gothic  architec- 
ture, which  of  itself  directed  all  eyes,  all  rays  of 
light,  all  hearts,  all  minds,  toward  the  altar.  That 
Theodora  felt  awed  and  touched  under  those  cir- 


184     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

cumstances  she  understood  was  not  strange ;  she  was 
moved  by  the  great  psychic  wave  of  belief  and  prayer 
that  swept  over  the  multitudes.  But  this  was  absent 
when  she  entered  a  lonely  and  darkened  church,  with 
only  a  few  kneeling  figures,  the  altar  without  cere- 
monial, only  the  light  burning  before  the  Tabernacle. 
She  had  seen  much  of  what  was  called  piety  in  the 
family  of  Fontarini.  They  regarded  her  as  heretical 
and  used  every  mode  of  persuasion  and  even  a  sort 
of  coercion  to  induce  her  at  least  to  conform  out- 
wardly to  the  Roman  Catholic  religion.  But  Theo- 
dora was  too  sincere  for  this.  These  appeals  which 
to  Theodora's  clear  perception  were  not  addressed  to 
her  heart,  but  only  to  her  conduct,  gave  her  a  dis- 
trust for  the  religion  of  the  Fontarinis.  Only  in 
Cardinal  Fontarini  did  she  find  any  real  love  of  God. 
He  combined  the  utmost  outward  splendour  and  dig- 
nity with  a  monk-like  austerity  of  which  the  world 
knew  nothing.  One  of  the  finest  of  the  cardinals' 
residences  in  Rome  belonged  to  Cardinal  Fontarini, 
but  he  himself  lived  in  two  bare  little  rooms  and 
fared  like  an  anchorite.  He  was  a  student  and  a 
scholar  and  had  but  little  understanding  of  women, 
least  of  all  this  young  American  girl,  who  was  think- 
ing and  acting  for  herself  at  a  time  when  Italian 
girls  are  reciting  their  lessons  in  a  convent.  But 
after  Pietro  Fontarini's  conduct  had  culminated  in 
the  death  of  the  child,  and  when  the  issue  was 
made  between  Theodora  on  one  side  and  on  the 
other  the  great  Fontarini  family,  bent  on  protect- 


LIGHT!    MORE    LIGHT!  185 

ing  the  name  of  Fontarini,  did  the  Cardinal  declare 
himself  openly  on  Theodora's  side.  Even  then  the 
understanding  between  himself  and  Theodora  had 
not  been  very  clear,  beyond  the  Cardinal  recognising 
in  Theodora  an  innocent  and  stricken  creature,  and 
Theodora  finding  in  the  Cardinal  a  perfect  integrity 
of  mind  and  courage  to  take  the  side  of  the  injured. 
A  correspondence  had  been  maintained  between  them 
at  long  but  regular  intervals.  It  consisted  of  grate- 
ful and  respectful  letters  from  Theodora,  and  brief 
but  kind  answers  from  the  Cardinal.  But  Theo- 
dora never  dreamed  of  telling  him  her  doubts  and 
her  desires.  Now,  when  in  a  few  months  she  would 
again  become  a  wife,  Theodora  began  to  reflect  upon 
marriage  in  its  sacramental  aspect.  Her  natural 
loftiness  of  mind  and  delicacy  of  temperament  made 
her  a  disbeliever  in  divorce.  She  revolted  from  the 
idea  that  marriage  was  a  civil  contract  merely,  and 
that  when  the  contract  was  violated,  anothed  civil 
contract  could  be  formed.  She  asked  herself  how 
could  religion  give  its  sanction  to  marriage  unless 
it  were  inviolable?  Theodora  found  herself  obliged 
to  admit  that  the  only  inviolable  marriage  bond  was 
that  furnished  by  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 
Slowly,  but  inevitably,  a  strong  desire  formed  itself 
in  Theodora's  mind  to  be  married  by  the  Roman 
Catholic  rite,  if  possible.  But  would  it  be  possible 
if  neither  she  nor  Lord  Fermor  were  Roman  Catho- 
lics? Nor  did  she  find  in  herself  at  first  any  incli- 
nation to  become  a  Roman  Catholic.  It  was  too 


186     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

much  like  paying  a  price  to  obtain  what  she  wanted, 
the  sacramental  character  attached  to  her  marriage. 
There  was  none  to  whom  she  could  speak  these 
thoughts ;  they  would  simply  have  mystified  her 
father. 

After  some  weeks,  she  concluded  to  go  and  ask 
an  interview  with  the  parish  priest  at  Hillborough, 
where  she  had  gone  to  Mass  with  Ashburton  and 
the  Marsacs. 

The  day  was  wet  and  stormy  when  Theodora 
started,  but  this  child  of  fortune  and  misfortune  had 
all  the  appliances  of  money  at  her  command,  and 
Hillborough  could  be  reached  in  half  an  hour  by  a 
motor  car.  It  was  about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
dark  and  rainy,  when  Theodora  found  herself  in  the 
study  of  the  parish  priest.  In  a  moment  or  two,  he 
entered  and  introduced  himself  as  Father  Redcliffe. 
Theodora  looked  at  him  with  a  curious  kind  of  sym- 
pathy and  admiration.  He  was  young,  barely  thirty, 
and  looked  much  less,  and  had  an  ascetic  beauty,  a 
noble  innocence  such  as  a  man  may  well  have  who  is 
destined  from  his  cradle  to  be  a  Levite.  His  figure 
was  slight,  but  well  made,  as  his  black  robe  revealed, 
and  his  thin  aquiline  features  were  extremely  hand- 
some. He  had  the  large  thin-lipped  mouth  of  the 
orator  and  a  beautiful  softness  and  benignancy 
shone  in  his  young  face.  He  was  so  polished,  so 
graceful,  so  charming,  Theodora  felt  instantly 
at  ease  with  him.  She  knew  that  Kemlin  Redcliffe 
came  of  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  distinguished 


LIGHT!    MORE    LIGHT!  187 

Roman  Catholic  families  in  England,  and  she  saw 
that  his  nature  was  pure  and  spiritual.  In  truth, 
the  severe  discipline  and  self-sacrifice  of  the  priest- 
hood were  so  easy,  so  natural  to  Kemlin  Redcliffe 
that  it  scarcely  seemed  either  discipline  or  self-sacri- 
fice. He  had  passed  from  a  beautiful  and  pious  home- 
life  into  the  religious  life,  where  his  steadiness,  his 
purity  of  intention,  his  antecedents,  placed  him  in 
charge  of  a  parish  at  an  extremely  early  age.  The 
heaviest  care  he  had  ever  known  was  the  attention 
to  the  duties  of  his  parish.  He  would  have  liked  to 
give  himself  absolutely  to  the  spiritual  side  of  his 
work  and  to  the  contemplation  and  adoration  of  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  The  petty  and  even  sordid  de- 
tails of  the  work  of  a  parish  priest  were  very 
grievous  to  him,  but  he  forced  himself  to  attend  to 
them  rigidly,  and  thereby,  although  without  much 
natural  executive  ability,  he  managed  to  conduct 
things  properly  in  his  parish.  His  was  one  of  those 
happy  natures  which  can  believe  any  miracle  of  God's 
goodness,  and  is  without  doubts  and  questionings. 
There  was  deep  sympathy  in  his  attitude  toward 
other  men,  but  not  always  clear  understanding,  and 
this  was  what  Theodora  felt  when  he  sat  beside  her 
and  fixed  his  large,  clear  gaze  upon  her.  Her  heart 
sank  a  little.  She  thought  it  well  to  tell  him  some- 
thing of  her  former  life,  and  to  her  surprise  and 
great  relief,  she  found  he  knew  much  of  it. 

"  I  was  in  Rome  studying  at  the  English  College 
at  the  time  you  mention,"  he  said,  "  arid  had  some 


188     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Italian  friends  who  knew  you.  There  was  much 
sympathy  for  you." 

Then  Theodora  began  to  tell  him  of  her  wishes 
and  her  doubts.  She  had  an  earnest,  even  a  desper- 
ate, desire  to  be  married  by  the  Roman  Catholic 
ceremonial,  because  that  to  her  represented  the  only 
one  that  was  inviolable,  but  she  was  not  a  Roman 
Catholic  nor  did  she  know  if  she  could  ever  become 
one.  Yet  she  felt  that  singular  yearning  for  the 
Real  Presence  of  God  which  is  the  secret  motive  of 
many  of  those  who  become  Roman  Catholics.  But  for 
that  very  reason,  because  of  this  yearning,  because 
of  the  desire  to  have  the  blessing  of  the  Church  upon 
her  marriage,  she  distrusted  herself.  Father  Red- 
cliffe  listened  gravely,  but  at  each  word  she  spoke 
Theodora  felt  that  instead  of  drawing  nearer  in 
comprehension  they  grew  farther  apart. 

"And  how  would  your  father,  may  I  ask,  receive 
your  wish  to  be  married  by  the  Church?  " 

"  My  father  would  not  make  the  slightest  objec- 
tion. He  has  never  gainsaid  me  in  any  respect," 
replied  Theodora. 

A  look  of  surprise,  of  distrust,  of  pity,  came  into 
Father  Redcliffe's  eyes.  Theodora  saw  it  and  felt 
for  the  thousandth  time  how  different  her  American 
mind  and  viewpoint  must  ever  be  from  that  of  the 
people  in  the  older  world.  She  knew  the  impossibility 
of  making  the  relations  between  herself  and  her 
father  clear  to  Father  Redcliffe,  and  said  nothing 
more. 


LIGHT!    MORE    LIGHT!  189 

"  And  what  do  you  think  would  be  Lord  Fermor's 
attitude  in  respect  to  the  ceremony,  if  you  should 
by  that  time  have  made  up  your  mind  to  unite  your- 
self with  the  Church?  " 

"  I  don't  think,"  replied  Theodora  after  a  moment, 
"  that  Lord  Fermor  would,  or  in  fact  could,  object 
— a  bridegroom  could  scarcely  object " 

Theodora  paused  with  a  faint  smile.  How  could 
she  ever  make  this  gentle,  handsome,  seventeenth- 
century  young  priest  understand  that  obligation  on 
the  part  of  a  man  to  submit  his  wishes  so  absolutely 
to  the  woman?  Clearly  Father  Redcliffe  did  not 
understand  it  at  all. 

Then  Theodora  falteringly  touched  upon  some  of 
her  questionings.  Father  Redcliffe  answered  her 
readily  enough  out  of  books,  but  the  mind  which  has 
never  had  a  doubt  is  never  at  one  with  the  mind  that 
has  wrestled  with  doubt  from  the  beginning. 

After  half  an  hour's  talk  Theodora  rose  to  go. 
Nothing  could  have  been  kinder,  nor  could  there 
have  been  a  more  Christlike  courtesy  than  the  young 
priest  showed  Theodora  as  he  went  with  her  to  the 
door,  and  asked  her  to  come  again.  But  Theodora 
had  the  inward  consciousness  that  not  only  she  had 
not  made  herself  understood,  but  that  she  could 
never  make  herself  understood  by  this  gentle,  suave, 
young  priest,  who  lived  upon  a  crust  that  he  might 
give  to  the  poor,  and  who  rose  from  his  bed  at  mid- 
night to  cast  himself  in  an  ecstasy  of  prayer  before 
the  Crucifix. 


100     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Going  back  through  the  rainy  twilight,  Theo- 
dora with  a  sense  of  failure  asked  herself  to  whom 
she  could  turn  for  counsel.  The  thought  suddenly 
occurred  to  her  that  Ashburton  was  the  person.  At 
first  she  thought  she  would  write  to  him,  and  then 
determined  to  wait  until  his  next  visit,  which  would 
be  before  very  long. 

When  she  reached  home,  she  went  direct  to  the 
small  room  which  "Was  her  father's  study.  There,  to 
her  pleasure,  she  found  Ashburton.  No  two  men 
ever  liked  better  to  be  together  than  Ashburton  and 
Seymour.  When  Theodora  entered,  Seymour  first 
had  satisfied  himself  that  she  had  not  caught  cold 
in  the  rain,  and  then  continued  the  conversation, 
holding  Theodora's  hand  as  she  leaned  smilingly 
over  his  chair.  He  was  trying  to  convince  Ashburton 
that  a  sum  of  money  could  be  distributed  advanta- 
geously to  lately  released  prisoners,  by  a  society 
formed  for  their  benefit.  Ashburton  strongly  con- 
troverted him,  and  finally  flatly  accused  Seymour  of 
being  a  perverter  of  morals  by  his  readiness  to  be- 
stow money  without  sufficient  consideration  as  to 
whether  it  would  do  good  or  harm.  Seymour  did 
not  accept  with  his  usual  modest  acquiescence  Ash- 
burton's  charge,  but  with  more  warmth  than  Theo- 
dora had  often  seen  him  show,  he  urged  that  recently 
released  prisoners  should  have  money  in  order  to 
keep  them  from  returning  to  their  old  temptations. 
He  spoke  so  strongly  that  not  only  Ashburton,  but 
Theodora  was  surprised,  and  ended  by  declaring  his 


LIGHT!    MORE    LIGHT!  191 

intention  to  send  a  cheque  to  the  society  that  very 
evening.  Then  he  added,  with  a  smile,  to  Ashbur- 
ton: 

"  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  gone  against  your 
advice  since  we  met  at  the  bedside  of  the  Barotti 
boy." 

"  You  are  like  all  other  men,"  said  Ashburton,  as- 
suming the  Englishman's  attitude,  with  his  back  to 
the  fire.  "  You  are  never  tired  of  praising  my  prac- 
tical methods  until  they  come  into  collision  with  your 
OAvn  notions.  Nobody  can  coerce  you  but  Madame 
Fontarini,  and  she  ought  to  do  it." 

"  Never !  "  cried  Theodora.  "  Papa  shall  have  his 
own  way  in  everything  as  long  as  I  can  give  it  to 
him." 

Ashburton  had  come  for  the  night,  and  after  a 
pleasant  dinner,  Seymour  left  him  with  Theodora 
in  her  little  sitting-room  that  gave  upon  the  ter- 
race. Seymour  announced  that  he  was  going  to  his 
study  to  send  off  his  cheque.  As  he  went  out  of  the 
room,  Ashburton  said  to  him : 

"  Don't  make  it  twice  what  you  originally  meant 
it  to  be." 

And  Theodora  cried: 

"  Make  it  anything  you  like.  Don't  pay  any  at- 
tention to  this  bad  man." 

The  evening  had  grown  chilly  and  a  fire  sparkled 
on  the  hearth.  The  soft  light  of  the  lamp  fell  upon 
Theodora's  silky  black  hair,  and  her  clinging  white 
gown.  Ashburton  felt  as  Fennor  did,  that  strange 


193     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

and  indefinable  interest  in  a  woman  who  had  passed 
through  deep  waters,  who  had  looked  into  gulfs  of 
shame  and  wickedness,  and  who  had  endured  storms 
of  misery  and  humiliation,  whose  emotions  had  been 
rent  and  racked  more  in  her  first  youth  than  most 
women  in  a  lifetime,  but  who  in  other  ways  was  in- 
nocent, even  childlike,  and  unsophisticated  beyond 
words.  He  doubted  if  all  of  Madame  Fontarini's 
sorrowful  experiences  had  really  taught  her  much 
knowledge  of  the  world. 

Suddenly  Theodora  began  to  tell  of  her  visit  of 
that  afternoon  and  its  fruitlessness,  and  before  she 
knew  it,  the  whole  story  of  her  doubts,  her  wishes, 
her  longings,  was  poured  forth  to  Ashburton.  There 
was  no  doubt  of  his  perfect  understanding,  as  well  as 
his  sympathy.  He  saw  in  Theodora  a  natural  will- 
ingness to  do  what  is  right,  a  willingness  so  natural 
that  her  aspirations  were  for  a  higher  spiritual  life. 
She  explained  to  him  the  two  things  which  she  craved 
in  the  Roman  Catholic  church ;  the  sacramental  mar- 
riage and  the  Real  Presence.  Theodora  had  the  art 
of  explaining  with  vividness  the  subtleties  of  her 
mind,  and  also,  as  the  case  often  is  with  women,  she 
was  more  logical  than  reasonable.  She  evidently  had 
no  suspicion  that  Lord  Fermor  would  attempt  to  in- 
terfere with  her  views  on  marriage,  and  when  Ash- 
burton  gently  suggested  it,  Theodora  looked  genu- 
inely surprised. 

"  I  found  that  in  Italy,"  she  said,  "  and  could 
no  doubt  find  it  in  Spain  or  Russia,  but  I  hardly 


LIGHT!    MORE    LIGHT!  193 

thought  of  finding  it  in  England,  the  land  of  re- 
ligious freedom." 

"  No — only  religious  toleration,"  replied  Ashbur- 
ton.  "  You  remember,  as  Wyndham  said  that  Sun- 
day afternoon,  that  with  a  state  church  and  a 
sovereign  who  takes  a  mediseval  oath  on  his  acces- 
sion, there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  religious  liberty. 
I  should  think,  however,  it  would  be  prudent  for  you 
at  least  to  consult  Fermor  before  going  farther  in 
this  business." 

"  Consult  Lord  Fermor,  or  even  my  father,  as  to 
what  I  should  believe ! "  cried  Theodora,  standing  up 
and  extending  her  hands  with  a  gesture  of  earnest- 
ness. "  We  believe,  not  what,  we  wish  to  believe,  but 
what  we  must  believe.  My  father  is  too  just,  too 
spiritual  minded  himself  to  make  the  least  objec- 
tion to  my  seeking  the  truth  and  adopting  it  when  I 
think  I  have  found  it.  Is  it  fair  to  Lord  Fermor  to 
suppose  that  he  is  any  less  just  than  my  father?" 

Ashburton  rose  too,  smiling  a  little  at  this  fem- 
inine reasoning,  and  yet  admiring  the  generous  rash- 
ness of  Theodora's  view. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "  that  I  can't  advise  you. 
I  can  only  sympathise  with  you.  I  can  recommend 
you  to  a  man  in  London,  now  a  parish  priest,  once  a 
chaplain  in  my  regiment.  He  made  me  a  Roman 
Catholic,  not  from  any  transcendentalism  in  my 
nature,  for  I  am  only  a  plain  soldier,  but  because  I 
hate  what  is  negative  and  must  have  what  is  positive, 
because  I  love  order  and  discipline  and  see  the  neces- 


194     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

sity  for  direction  in  moral  and  spiritual  matters.  I 
was  the  easiest  man  on  earth  to  convert,  because  I 
am  accustomed  to  receiving  orders  and  to  giving 
them.  You,  I  think,  will  be  difficult,  and  there  are 
vast  obstacles  in  your  way,  which  you  evidently  do 
not  realise.  It  is  by  no  means  the  simple  thing  for 
an  Englishman  or  an  Englishwoman  to  become  a 
Roman  Catholic  that  it  is  for  an  American.  You 
will  have  to  consider  that  Lord  Fermor's  political 
future  may  be  very  much  affected,  even  ruined, 
by  it." 

"For  that  I  should  be  sorry,"  replied  Theodora, 
"  but  there  is  no  chance  of  it,  because  technically 
there  is  no  engagement  between  us  until  after  the 
bye-election  is  over.  In  any  event,  Lord  Fermor  will 
have  to  take  me  as  I  am,  or  not  take  me  at  all.  As 
for  Lord  Castlemaine  and  the  family  connec- 
tion  " 

Theodora  made  a  little  gesture  indicating  su- 
preme indifference  for  forces  of  which  she  had  heard 
little  and  knew  less. 

"  I  would  advise  you  to  go  up  to  London  and  see 
Father  White.  He  can't  come  down  here  to  you 
because  he  works  like  a  cab  horse,  real  work,  you 
understand." 

"  I  think  I  shall  do  as  you  say,"  said  Theodora. 

Then  they  sat  down  and  they  talked  intimately 
until  late.  Seymour  came  in  for  a  few  moments  to 
say  good-night  to  his  daughter  and  guest,  and  went 
out  again.  The  house  grew  still  and  the  dropping 


LIGHT!   MORE    LIGHT!  195 

of  rain  on  the  terrace  outside  penetrated  the  silence 
of  the  quiet  room. 

When  Theodora  was  in  her  own  room,  she  looked 
out  into  the  murky  night,  upon  a  world  all  dark 
and  melancholy,  with  vast  black  shadows  and  great 
masses  of  pallid  grey  rain.  But  even  as  she  looked, 
the  rain  turned  to  mist  that  lay  like  a  white  robe 
upon  the  earth,  the  clouds  suddenly  parted,  turning 
from  black  to  silver,  and  drifted  off  under  a  westerly 
wind,  and  the  stars  were  shining  steadily  and 
brightly  overhead.  Theodora's  heart  grew  calm. 
She  felt  a  deep  sense  of  gratitude  to  Ashburton. 
His  good  sense,  his  sound  practical  ideas,  appealed 
to  her,  even  his  want  of  imagination  steadied  her 
own  rich  and  ungoverned  fancy.  He  was  like  her 
father,  only  far  more  a  man  of  the  world,  and  shrewd 
where  Seymour  was  simple.  Theodora  could  not 
bring  herself  to  think  that  Fermor  would  attempt 
to  coerce  her  mind,  and  pleased  herself  with  the 
natural  feminine  idea  of  yielding  to  Fermor  in  all 
things  material,  and  having  him  yield  to  her  in  all 
things  moral  and  spiritual. 

Ashburton,  in  his  turn,  looked  out  from  his  win- 
dow upon  the  same  scene  with  far  different  thoughts. 
Theodora  had  from  the  beginning  possessed  for  him 
a  singular  interest.  As  he  had  never  cared  much 
for  the  society  of  women  and  respected,  rather  than 
liked  them,  he  was  surprised  at  the  hold  Theodora 
had  taken  upon  him.  He  knew  nothing  of  a  close 
friendship  with  an  unmarried  woman,  that  being 


196    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

utterly  unknown  and  disallowed  in  Europe,  but  after 
that  long  and  intimate  evening  with  Theodora,  some- 
thing of  the  charm  of  affection  that  is  not  passion, 
between  a  man  and  a  woman,  made  itself  clear  to  him. 
Perhaps  it  assumed  the  form  of  a  vague  dream,  an 
indefined  longing — he  began  to  think  Fermor  would 
be  a  very  happy  man. 

But  the  treasure  of  Theodora's  friendship,  her 
confidence,  her  affection,  was  very  great,  and  Ash- 
burton  felt  with  a  deep  sense  of  satisfaction  that 
this  treasure  had  become  his  that  night. 


A  WEEK  later  Theodora  said  to  her  father  when 
they  parted  for  the  night: 

"  Papa,  I  am  going  up  to  London  to-morrow  to 
see  Father  White,  a  Roman  Catholic  priest.  Major 
Ashburton  advised  me  to  see  him.  Perhaps  I  may 
become  a  Roman  Catholic." 

Seymour  received  this  announcement  as  calmly 
as  it  was  made,  and  replied: 

"  Whatever  you  become,  my  dear,  you  can  never 
be  a  better  daughter  to  me  than  you  have  been." 

The  next  morning  at  eight  o'clock,  while  the  mist 
still  lay  over  the  meadows,  Theodora  came  down 
prepared  to  start  for  London.  Her  mind  was  far 
from  being  at  ease.  The  idea  that  not  only  her  rela- 
tions with  Fermor,  but  his  future  could  be  affected 
by  anything  she  might  do  in  a  spiritual  way,  was 
new  and  disturbing. 

Theodora's  interview  with  Father  White  was  fixed 
for  ten  o'clock,  and  it  was  striking  the  hour  as  she 
entered  the  private  reception-room.  The  door  was 
of  clear  glass,  uncurtained,  so  that  all  that  passed 
within  could  be  seen,  but  nothing  could  be  heard. 
Almost  immediately,  Father  White  entered.  He  had 
the  unmistakable  air  of  military  life,  but  he  pro- 

197 


198     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

duced  the  effect  upon  Theodora  of  being  more  in- 
tellectual than  Ashburton  and  more  practical  and 
sympathetic  than  Father  Redcliffe.  Theodora  told 
him  of  her  thoughts  and  wishes,  of  the  impending 
change  in  her  life  and  the  difficulties  suggested  by 
Ashburton,  without  mentioning  Lord  Fermor's 
name. 

"  Major  Ashburton  has  not  understated  any  of 
the  perplexities  in  your  path,"  he  answered.  "  But 
there  are  some  natures  which  cannot  compromise 
with  truth;  yours,  I  think,  is  one  of  them.  I  would 
not  advise  you  to  enter  the  Church  on  the  mere  long- 
ing of  which  you  speak,  but  to  read,  to  study,  to 
think,  and,  above  all,  to  pray." 

Theodora  remained  the  whole  half  hour  that 
Father  White  had  given  her.  When  she  went  out 
upon  the  street  again,  she  walked  along  reflectively, 
her  eyes  upon  the  ground. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  found  herself  before  the  open 
door  of  Father  White's  shabby  church.  It  was  a 
holiday  and  High  Mass  was  in  progress.  Theodora, 
obeying  the  impulse  to  enter  the  open  door  of  any 
church,  walked  in  and  seated  herself  in  a  dark  corner. 
The  music  was  florid  and  bad,  the  altar  and  its  deco- 
rations tawdry,  but  a  look  around  the  small  congre- 
gation revealed  why  this  was.  The  people  were  of  the 
shopkecping  and  artisan  class.  Many  of  the  men  had 
an  unmistakable  out-of-work  look.  Theodora  was  too 
sensitive  to  beauty,  to  magnificence,  to  great  cere- 
monials, not  to  be  equally  averse  to  what  was  cheap 


THE    SOUL    AND    THE    HEART      199 

and  unlovely,  and  the  outward  aspect  struck  her 
disagreeably.  Nevertheless,  she  could  not  escape 
from  the  same  feeling  which  had  haunted  her  in  the 
majestic  gloom  of  great  cathedrals,  that  there  was 
a  Divine  Presence  in  the  church.  A  few  minutes 
after  she  came  in,  Father  White  entered  from  the 
sacristy,  and  ascending  the  little  pulpit  began  a 
sermon  which  lasted  barely  fifteen  minutes.  There 
was  in  his  voice  an  indefinable  note  of  command,  a 
note  which  fascinated  Theodora  because  it  was  posi- 
tive. He  spoke  with  the  authority  of  an  officer  who 
had  received  a  commission,  and  is  giving  instructions 
under  it.  His  theme  might  have  been  called  common- 
place, but  it  was  perfectly  adapted  to  his  congrega- 
tion, the  kind  of  congregation  which  assembles  in 
London  when  all  who  can  go,  are  gone  away.  He 
spoke  to  the  workingmen  of  the  Teacher,  who  was 
Himself  a  workingman,  and  compared  Jesus,  the 
humble  artisan,  the  son  of  work  and  poverty,  with 
a  brief  public  life  of  three  years  in  an  obscure  corner 
of  the  Roman  Empire,  with  the  splendid  position  of 
Confucius,  who  received  magnificent  honours  during 
his  lifetime ;  Mahomet,  the  great  ruler  and  law-giver ; 
of  Buddha,  the  mighty  prince,  and  how  great  their 
power  had  been  during  their  lives,  while  the  poor  and 
despised  Jesus  had  none  of  the  glory  of  this  world 
and  met  a  malefactor's  death.  Yet  the  religion  of 
the  Carpenter  had  marched  steadily  onward,  ignor- 
ing racial  and  geographical  lines,  while  that  of  the 
philosopher,  the  conqueror,  the  monarch,  remained 


200     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

stationary  and  strictly  racial  and  national.  The  idea 
was  not  new  to  Theodora,  but  she  was  impressed  by 
the  man  who  could  deal  sympathetically  with  the 
rich,  the  learned,  and  the  analytical,  and  also  with 
those  whose  chief  concern  was  their  weekly  wage  on 
Saturday  night.  She  began  to  have  a  glimmer  of 
the  true  way  to  approach  the  poor,  and  to  realise 
that  her  father's  lavish  giving,  not  only  of  his 
money  but  of  his  time  and  strength,  was  not  the  only 
help  which  the  poor  most  needed,  nor  could  it  be 
practised  by  many  persons. 

Theodora  returned  that  afternoon  to  King's  Lyn- 
don, and  after  dinner,  when  she  and  her  father  were 
sitting  together  in  her  own  little  sitting-room,  she 
told  Seymour  all  about  her  visit. 

"You  can't  go  wrong  if  you  follow  Ashburton's 
advice,"  remarked  Seymour. 

He  did  not  mention  Fermor,  and  it  was  evident 
the  idea  had  not  occurred  to  him  that  Fermor  could 
object  to  anything  Theodora  might  do. 

The  weeks  passed  with  great  rapidity  to  Theo- 
dora. She  was  deeply  interested  in  the  rehabilita- 
tion of  the  place  which  was  beginning  to  show  signs 
of  nearing  completion.  Barotti's  weekly  violin  les- 
son was  a  joy  to  Theodora.  She  had  taken  up  her 
music  again  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  and  did 
her  two-hours'  practice  every  day,  or  every  evening. 
The  acoustics  of  the  great  ballroom  were  wonder- 
fully fine,  and  there,  in  the  evening  while  her  father 
read  his  newspaper  in  his  own  quarters,  Theodora 


would  go,  and  by  the  light  of  a  single  candle,  which 
made  but  a  spark  in  the  gloom  of  the  vast  and  lofty 
room,  she  would  speak  to  her  violin  and  make  it 
speak  for  her.  She  liked  the  thought  that  she  was 
alone  in  the  great  apartment,  and  that  the  thrilling 
and  the  laughter  and  the  wailing  of  the  strings  could 
be  heard  by  no  ear  but  her  own.  The  darkness,  the 
mysterious  seclusion,  inspired  her  as  she  played. 
The  appeal  of  music  is  so  entirely  to  the  emotions, 
and  so  absolutely  null  to  the  intellect,  that  these 
hours  in  the  dark  ballroom,  with  its  one  faint  spark 
of  light,  were  given  over  to  the  sorrows,  the  few  joys, 
the  fair,  fresh  hopes,  which  filled  Theodora's  heart. 
Being  a  woman,  and  not  a  girl,  she  had  acknowl- 
edged to  herself  that  her  heart  was  more  engaged 
with  Fermor  than  he  or  anyone  else  knew.  Her 
pride  was  ever  armed  and  watchful  and  she  was  dis- 
cerning enough  to  know  that  unasked  love  is  one 
of  the  most  wearisome  and  annoying  things  on  earth 
to  a  man.  She  was  fully  capable  of  acting  the  part 
to  Lord  Fermor  of  the  woman  who  makes  a  mar- 
riage of  friendship  and  respect,  a  thing  so  common 
in  Europe  that  nobody  ever  remarks  upon  it.  Theo- 
dora was  not  without  a  haughty  confidence  in  her- 
self, and  had  not  the  least  fear  that  Lord  Fermor 
or  anyone  else  would  find  out  her  secret.  The  sweet 
hopes  and  pretty  dreams  that  sprang  up  in  her  path 
and  showed  their  smiling  faces  like  the  first  snow- 
drops of  the  spring  were  known  only  to  herself. 
Like  a  true  woman,  she  thought  that  Fermor  should 


202     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

be  made  to  sue  for  her  love,  and  to  ask  long  for 
what  was  already  his,  unknown  to  him.  Theodora 
could  look  into  her  mirror  and  see  a  rosy  vision ; 
she  understood  perfectly  well  the  charm  of  beauti- 
ful accessories,  and  her  woman's  vanity  recognised 
easily  enough  that  she  lost  nothing  by  comparison 
with  the  more  florid  beauty  of  Englishwomen.  These 
ideas,  feminine  and  even  girlish,  were  the  more  charm- 
ing to  her  because  she  had  thought  that  they  could 
never  be  her  portion  again. 

The  bye-election  was  to  come  off  early  in  Septem- 
ber and  Fermor  had  his  hands  full  until  then.  He 
contrived  to  spend  an  occasional  afternoon  at  King's 
Lyndon,  but  Theodora,  true  to  her  policy  of  ret- 
icence and  reserve,  never  gave  him  an  invitation  to 
remain  the  night. 

He  wrote  her  brief  occasional  letters,  to  which 
she  replied  with  charming  grace,  but  these  little 
letters  might  just  as  well  have  been  written  to  Lord 
Castlemaine,  so  far  as  any  personal  note  was  con- 
tained in  them.  This  was  new  to  Fermor,  and  some- 
what rueful  to  him.  It  was  plain  that  the  task  of 
courtship  was  left  entirely  to  himself,  and  that 
where  an  Englishwoman  would  have  met  him  half 
way,  this  American  woman  required  him  to  go  the 
whole  distance  himself. 

The  bye-election  was  extremely  close,  and  it  took 
the  official  count  to  determine  whether  Fermor  had 
carried  the  division.  He  had,  however,  by  the  nar- 


THE    SOUL    AND    THE    HEART      203 

row  margin  of  something  less  than  a  hundred  votes. 
The  election  hung  in  the  balance  for  forty-eight 
hours,  and  in  that  time  Fermor  appeared  at  King's 
Lyndon.  He  had  arranged  his  visit  in  advance, 
supposing  that  he  would  come  either  as  an  elected 
or  defeated  candidate,  but  as  it  was,  the  result  was 
not  positively  known.  It  was  a  soft  September  even- 
ing when  Fermor  arrived  to  dine  and  return  to  Lon- 
don that  night.  The  purple  twilight  was  falling  when 
he  arrived  near  seven  o'clock.  Theodora  awaited 
him  on  the  terrace  with  her  father.  Seymour,  who 
easily  persuaded  himself  that  Fermor  adored  Theo- 
dora, was  anxious  to  be  out  of  the  way,  but  Theo- 
dora would  not  hear  of  it. 

The  evening  was  cool  for  the  season  and  the  light 
of  the  clear-obscure  lay  over  the  gardens  now  beau- 
tiful and  flourishing,  the  darkling  waters  of  the 
lake,  and  the  misty  uplands  of  the  park.  As  Theo- 
dora looked  toward  the  beautiful  gardens  and  trim 
shrubberies,  she  thought  that  a  like  change  to  theirs 
had  come  upon  her.  Out  of  neglect  and  disaster 
beauty  seemed  to  be  once  more  recreated.  She  still 
wore  no  colours,  as  she  had  never  done  since  her 
child's  death,  but  instead  of  the  severe  simplicity 
of  the  black  gowns  she  had  worn  a  year  ago,  she 
now  adopted  those  which,  though  still  black,  had  a 
filmy  beauty  and  elaborate  elegance,  and  that  took 
from  them  all  suggestion  of  mourning.  Upon  her 
delicate  head  was  a  great  black  hat  and  feathers, 


204.     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

that  might  have  graced  a  Romney  or  a  Gainsbor- 
ough portrait,  and  her  milk-white  arms,  bared  to 
the  elbow,  revealed  one  of  her  greatest  beauties. 

When  Fermor  at  last  appeared,  Theodora  saw 
even  in  the  twilight,  that  although  cheerful,  he  was 
pale  and  worn.  He  had  worked  hard,  and  more  was 
at  stake  for  him  than  a  seat  in  Parliament.  It  was 
for  him  the  turning  point  in  life,  the  chance  that  he 
had  asked  for  ever  since  he  had  worn  hair  on  his 
face,  the  only  thing  for  which  he  was  fitted.  The 
uncertainty  after  all  his  labours  told  upon  him,  and 
he  felt  himself  in  want  of  encouragement.  It  is  a 
characteristic  of  women  that  they  are  acutely  sym- 
pathetic with  all  forms  of  bodily  suffering.  Fer- 
mor's  pallor,  his  confession  that  much  travelling  and 
speaking  had  wearied  him  and  that  his  nights  of 
late  had  been  sleepless,  went  to  Theodora's  heart 
quicker  than  any  other  plea  he  could  have  made. 
She  smiled  upon  him,  and  for  the  first  time  in  their 
acquaintance  suggested  a  stroll  with  him.  Fermor, 
pleased  and  surprised,  walked  by  her  side  across 
the  lawns  and  down  to  the  yew  walk  by  the  lake. 
He  was  plainly  tired  and  depressed,  and  Theodora 
put  forward  some  of  her  sweetest  arts  to  charm  him. 
The  thought  occurred  to  Fermor,  as  he  looked  at 
Theodora,  her  face  uplifted  to  his  as  she  talked 
gently  to  him: 

"  What  anxieties,  griefs  and  losses  has  this 
woman  known !  and  how  little  of  what  I  feel  com- 
pares with  what  she  has  undergone ! " 


THE    SOUL    AND    THE    HEART      205 

Still  he  suffered,  and  Theodora  saw  it  and  soothed 
him.  He  remained  to  dinner,  and  left  soon  after- 
wards, obviously  in  better  spirits  than  when  he 
came. 

That  night,  Theodora  fell  asleep  with  a  sense  of 
triumph  in  her  heart.  She  had  exercised  over  Fer- 
mor  one  of  the  greatest  of  woman's  weapons — the 
power  to  console. 

It  was  arranged  that  Fermor  should  wire  her  next 
day  the  instant  the  result  of  the  election  was  known. 
All  day  Theodora  waited  in  silent  impatience  for  the 
despatch  which  did  not  come. 

Seymour,  who  was  deeply  interested  in  the  elec- 
tion, got  conflicting  news  late  in  the  afternoon.  At 
nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  election  was  still  in 
doubt.  Seymour  walked  down  to  the  little  tele- 
graph office  in  the  village  to  find  out  the  latest  news. 
Theodora,  taking  her  violin,  went  into  the  great 
dark  ballroom  and  with  a  single  candle  resting  on 
the  console  before  a  huge  mirror,  began  to  play. 
Never  had  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  more  palpi- 
tating of  emotion  than  at  that  hour.  The  night  be- 
fore, she  had  seen  with  feminine  prescience  that  Fer- 
mor was  falling  in  love  with  her  very  rapidly.  She 
felt  like  a  queen  who,  having  been  dethroned,  and 
discrowned,  was  returning  in  triumph  to  her  king- 
dom, once  more  to  be  crowned  and  enthroned. 

Through  her  violin  she  could  express  all  the  ex- 
citement, the  tumult,  the  longing,  the  regret,  that 
was  in  her  soul.  Always,  no  matter  how  bright  the 


206    THE    MARRIAGE    OF   THEODORA 

music,  with  which  she  began  playing,  it  ever  came  to 
the  plaintive  and  the  imaginative  note.  In  the  be- 
ginning she  had  dashed  into  one  of  Brahms'  char- 
acteristic compositions,  full  of  a  rich  and  resonant 
rhythm,  ringing  with  passion  and  riotous  in  colour. 
When  she  finished  she  sat  down  in  a  great  chair, 
resting  her  violin  in  her  lap,  and  breathing  quickly 
with  a  half  smile  upon  her  lips.  In  the  midst  of  the 
darkness  of  the  vast  apartment,  the  little  gleam  of 
the  candle  was  a  mere  point  of  light,  reflected  end- 
lessly in  the  mirrors.  Theodora's  eyes,  accustomed 
to  the  darkness,  could  see  the  faint  outline  of  her 
own  white  figure  revealed  in  the  mirrors,  and  every- 
where was  that  tiny  gleam  of  light  close  to  her  face. 
Presently,  she  drew  her  bow  softly  over  the  strings, 
and  then  began  an  andante  by  Beethoven,  touching 
in  its  harmonies  and  melodies,  simple  in  its  classic 
beauty,  controlled  in  jits  deep  feeling.  She  had 
thought  the  door  of  the  great  dark  ballroom  closed, 
but  a  passing  wind  had  opened  it  slightly  and  a  little 
thread  of  light  stole  in.  Up  to  the  door  came  Fer- 
mor,  guided  by  the  delicate  strains  of  the  music.  He 
came  in  noislessly  and  closed  the  door  behind  him 
without  the  least  sound.  Theodora  had  risen,  and 
was  moving  slowly  across  the  floor  as  she  played.  It 
reminded  Fermor  of  the  first  day  he  had  ever  seen  her, 
when  the  strains  of  her  violin  reached  him  on  the 
sunny  balcony.  He  was  strongly  susceptible  to  music, 
and  the  sweet  thrilling  of  the  strings  as  Theodora 
played,  spoke  from  her  soul  to  his.  She  was  like  the 


THE    SOUL    AND    THE    HEART      207 

very  spirit  of  music,  as  her  white  figure  moved  back 
and  forth  in  the  dimness.  The  candle  burning  in  the 
tall  silver  candlestick  made  the  darkness  visible,  and 
revealed  Theodora's  shadowy  presence  in  the  great 
dark  mirrors  upon  the  wall. 

Theodora  continued  to  draw  her  bow  plaintively 
across  the  strings,  improvising  as  if  she  were  telling 
her  own  story  to  the  violin.  At  last,  she  struck  some 
rich  double  notes,  with  an  echo  of  hope  in  them,  and 
a  note  of  rapture. 

The  hour,  the  scene,  the  time,  the  woman,  would 
have  appealed  to  most  men,  and  it  appealed  power- 
fully to  Fermor.  He  was  so  used  to  that  stony  self- 
control  which  goes  with  English  blood,  that  he  gave 
no  outward  sign  of  the  stirring  of  his  heart.  He  be- 
came more  acutely  conscious  of  that  singular  un- 
likeness  of  Theodora  to  the  other  women  he  had 
known.  Even  in  her  violin  playing  she  was  sui  gen- 
eris. She  had  the  most  delicate  arms  and  hands 
Fermor  had  ever  seen,  and  a  slight  figure,  but  she 
had  mastered  and  tamed  the  violin,  the  wildest  and 
strongest  instrument  in  the  world. 

Everywhere,  with  this  type  of  woman,  in  the 
midst  of  delicacy  was  found  unexpected  strength. 
The  more  Fermor  saw  of  Theodora,  the  more  he 
recognised  her  unlikeness  to  any  other  woman  he 
had  ever  known.  He  had  already  paid  her  the  com- 
pliment of  forgetting  all  other  women.  Even  Flora 
Bellenden  had  faded  out  of  his  mind  and  remained 
only  a  hateful  and  humiliating  memory. 


208     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

After  ten  minutes  Theodora  stopped  playing, 
ending  with  a  beautiful  little  cadenza,  bright  and 
sharp  and  sweet.  Then,  laying  her  violin  down  on 
the  piano,  she  sank  into  a  corner  of  one  of  the  long 
sofas  that  lined  the  wall.  She  did  not  know  of  Fer- 
mor's  presence  until  he  stood  before  her  smiling  in 
the  shadowy  darkness  and  said: 

"  Forgive  me  for  listening,  but  I  love  your  music." 

Theodora  did  not  spring  up  startled,  as  Fermor 
expected  she  would.  Her  mind  had  been  so  full  of 
him  and  she  was  so  wrought  upon  by  her  fancies 
that  it  seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
that  he  should  appear.  She  held  out  the  slim  little 
hand  that  had  wielded  the  strong  bow,  and  said  with 
smiling  composure: 

"I  had  a  strange  feeling  as  if  someone  were  lis- 
tening; someone  who  understood." 

Her  eyes,  accustomed  to  the  gloom  of  the  great 
apartment,  saw  something  in  Fermor's  face  that  in- 
dicated satisfaction  and  relief. 

"  You  have  good  news,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Fermor,  seating  himself  by  her 
side,  "  I  won  by  a  frightfully  close  vote." 

Theodora  impulsively  put  her  hand  in  his  with 
what  seemed  to  Fermor  a  frank  friendliness.  It  was 
encouraging  or  discouraging,  according  to  what  he 
required  of  the  woman  whom  he  was  to  marry,  but 
Fermor  retained  the  soft  hand.  Theodora  had  meant 
to  ask  him  many  questions,  and  Fermor  had  much 
to  tell  her,  but  all  at  once  everything  vanished  from 


THE    SOUL    AND    THE    HEART      209 

them  except  that  they  were  alone  together.  From 
Fermor  came  the  whispered  words  of  a  lover,  and 
from  Theodora,  the  silence  of  the  woman  who  loves. 
Fermor  drew  her  to  his  strong-beating  heart,  and 
Theodora's  sweet  surrender  told  him  all  he  wished  to 
know. 

They  knew  not  how  long  they  had  remained  in  this 
soft  dream,  when  a  breeze  from  an  open  window  sud- 
denly blew  the  door  of  the  ballroom  wide  open  and 
extinguished  the  single  candle.  Fermor,  holding 
Theodora's  hand  in  his,  led  her  straight  to  the  door 
in  spite  of  the  darkness. 

"  I  always  loved  this  room  when  I  was  a  little 
chap,"  he  said.  "  I  can  remember  perfectly  well  see- 
ing my  mother  dancing  in  this  room  in  a  ball  given 
in  honour  of  some  Royal  Highnesses.  I  was  only 
seven  years  old,  and  I  thought  my  mother  in  her 
white  satin  gown,  with  her  tiara,  the  most  beautiful 
creature  in  the  world.  She  was  not  beautiful  at  all, 
her  pictures  show  that,  but " 

Fermor  stopped  speaking.  They  had  then 
reached  the  door,  and  Theodora  said: 

"  Since  the  room  is  so  associated  with  your 
mother,  don't  you  think  it  would  be  well  after — this 
time  next  year,  we'll  say,  that  you  should  have  a 
good  copy  made  of  your  mother's  portrait  in  her 
court  dress  and  hang  it  in  the  ballroom?  " 

It  was  the  first  time  that  anyone  except  Fer- 
mor had  suggested  that  the  smallest  honour  was  due 
to  the  late  Lady  Castlemaine,  who,  like  many  other 


210     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

mediocre  women,  had  made  a  brilliant  and  miserable 
marriage.  Nothing  Theodora  could  have  said  would 
have  been  more  deeply  gratifying  to  Fermor. 

"  I  should  like  it  above  all  things,"  said  he,  as 
they  walked  through  the  hall  and  across  to  the  draw- 
ing-room. "  The  memory  of  my  mother  is  dear  to 
me,  and  if  she  had  lived  I  would  have  tried  to  make 
up  to  her  for  some  of  the  sorrows  she  suffered.  A 
woman  may  be  a  countess  and  entertain  Royal 
Highnesses,  and  at  the  same  time  be  very  badly  used 
in  .many  ways." 

In  a  moment  more  Seymour  entered  the  drawing- 
room,  and  there  was  much  hearty  congratulation. 

Theodora  rang  for  Reyburn,  and  when  she  came 
in  the  room,  Fermor  told  her  the  great  news  of  his 
election,  saying  that  if  her  husband  had  been 
against  him  it  would  probably  have  defeated  him, 
so  narrow  was  the  margin  of  votes.  Reyburn's  face 
softened,  as  it  always  did  when  she  looked  upon  Fer- 
mor, and  she  said: 

"  My  husband  doesn't  oppose  the  gentry  because 
they  are  gentry,  but  because  they  think  that  coals 
and  blankets  at  Christmas  time  is  all  poor  people 
want." 

When  she  had  gone  out,  Seymour  pressed  Fer- 
mor to  remain  the  night,  but  he  felt  obliged  to  de- 
cline. 

"  I  am  due  at  Longstaffe  to-night  and  only  came 
over  to  let  Madame  Fontarini  know  the  good  news, 


THE    SOUL    AND    THE    HEART      211 

and  that  hers  might  be  the  first  congratulation  I 
received." 

It  was  the  first  time  Fermor  had  ever  spoken  of 
Theodora  in  the  tone  of  possession,  and  she  blushed 
with  pleasure. 

Fermor  remained  an  hour  longer.  Accustomed  as 
he  was  to  the  frank  attitude  of  English  fiancees, 
Theodora's  reserve  was  a  novelty,  but  he  concluded 
he  rather  liked  it,  remembering  the  trembling  of  her 
hand  as  he  held  it,  and  the  vivid  colour  in  her  cheeks 
and  her  occasionally  down-cast  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  COMEDY  OF  FATE 

THE  unusual  has  its  charm  for  everybody,  and  Flora 
Bellenden  was  by  no  means  an  uninteresting  person 
to  Wyndham.  It  seemed  to  him  that  she  was  in 
many  respects  the  elemental  and  primitive  woman 
to  a  degree  far  greater  than  he  had  ever  seen  be- 
fore, and  on  this  primitiveness  was  superposed  a 
very  high  degree  of  artificiality.  She  expected  and 
submitted  to  be  controlled  by  her  husband  in  many 
ways  strange  to  the  American,  and  never  dreamed 
of  openly  controverting  his  will,  but  secretly  and 
slowly  she  got  her  own  way,  by  keeping  Bellenden 
in  the  dark.  None  was  easier  to  deceive  than  Bel- 
lenden, dull  as  he  was  and  wishing  to  believe  all  his 
wife  told  him.  Wyndham,  accustomed  to  the  Amer- 
ican woman's  calm  defiance  of  her  husband,  was  in- 
terested as  a  student  of  human  nature  in  this  English 
relation  between  husband  and  wife,  which  he  thought 
had  gone  out  with  stage  coaches  and  packet  boats. 
The  singular  frankness  of  the  English  mind  in 
matters  of  the  highest  import,  and  the  equally  singu- 
lar reticence  upon  the  merest  trifles,  amused  and 
puzzled  him.  Mrs.  Bellenden  had  a  frank  contempt 
scarcely  inferior  to  that  of  Lady  Susan  Battle  for 
American  men,  and  an  equally  frank  displeasure 

212 


THE    COMEDY   OF    FATE  213 

that  so  many  Englishmen  should  desire  American 
wives. 

This  was  sharply  accentuated  by  what  she  con- 
sidered Fermor's  perfidy  to  herself.  She  expressed 
something  of  this  to  Wyndham  one  afternoon  in  the 
early  autumn,  when  he  called  at  the  house  in  Ches- 
ter Street.  Since  the  late  summer,  she  had  been  on 
the  Continent  and  had  just  returned  to  town. 

"  Every  place  I  went,"  she  complained  as  she 
gave  Wyndham  tea  in  the  drawing-room,  "  was  full 
of  your  countrymen  and  countrywomen.  The  Eu- 
ropean men  were  all  flocking  around  the  American 
women,  and  so  were  the  American  men,  for  that 
matter.  Englishwomen  you  know,  don't  care  for 
American  men,  which  seems  a  pity,  considering  the 
scarcity  of  men  in  England." 

Wyndham  laughed  at  this  depreciation  of  Ameri- 
can men,  which  is  often  heard  in  England.  The  sim- 
plicity of  the  remark  on  the  part  of  a  lady  who 
was  artfully,  but  elaborately,  made  up,  tickled 
him. 

"  The  trouble  is,"  he  said  gravely,  "  that  under 
your  laws  and  customs,  when  an  unmarried  girl 
meets  an  unmarried  man  she  either  keeps  him  at  arm's 
length  by  talking  about  the  weather  and  the  flower 
show,  or  she  tells  him  she  can't  get  on  with  her 
father,  and  hates  her  mother,  and  virtually  makes 
him  an  offer  of  marriage.  American  men  are  not 
accustomed  to  this  sort  of  thing,  and  don't  know 
how  to  take  it.  So  we  find  the  normal  English  girl 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

too  backward  or  too  forward.  We  are  accustomed, 
you  know,  to  a  girl  who  treats  a  man  like  a  door- 
mat one  minute,  and  the  next  minute  acts  as  if 
she  couldn't  live  without  him,  and  frankly  admits 
that  marriage  is  a  last  desperate  resort.  It  is  only 
another  cataclysmal  difference  in  attitude  of  mind 
between  the  American  and  the  Englishman." 

"  I  have  never  seen  anything  bolder  than  an 
American  girl,"  replied  Mrs.  Bellenden  tartly.  "  I 
think  they  trap  Englishmen,  for,  trust  me,  they  are 
very  artful  and  designing." 

Wyndham  continued  laughing.  He  was  not  sur- 
prised at  the  sense  of  injury  that  rankled  in  Mrs. 
Bellenden's  breast.  It  was  certainly  something 
humiliating  to  find  women  of  another  nation  com- 
ing over  in  droves  to  England  and  carrying  the  stub- 
born Englishmen  by  storm. 

"  I  am  told,"  Mrs.  Bellenden  kept  on,  "  that  all 
Americans  are  not  rich,  but  they  give  themselves  the 
airs  of  princesses  on  two-  and  six-pence." 

Wyndham  realised  more  and  more  the  gulf  that 
lies  between  points  of  view  of  the  American  and  the 
Englishman,  a  gulf  more  surprising  because  of  their 
strong  superficial  resemblance,  and  their  community 
of  language,  laws  and  literature.  But  Englishwomen 
were  not  without  their  charm  to  Wyndham,  especially 
Jane  Battle.  The  women  of  an  older  race  and  civili- 
sation vividly  presented  to  him  the  strange  anomaly 
of  being  really  like  children.  When  they  began 
to  think  and  reason  for  themselves  they  cast  off  all 


THE    COMEDY    OF    FATE  215 

interdependence,  so  to  speak,  with  men,  and  became 
violent  social  agitators.  When  they  wished  for 
social  liberty  they  abandoned  family  ties  and  went 
down  single-handed  into  the  arena  and  fought  with 
beasts.  The  idea  of  a  true  equality  with  men  seemed 
unknown  to  them;  there  was  nothing  between  sub- 
mission and  defiance. 

Wyndham  wondered  how  a  girl  with  the  innate 
good  sense,  the  appealing  femininity,  of  Jane  Battle, 
would  develop  in  the  atmosphere  of  affectionate  in- 
dulgence, and  the  unquestioning  sovereignty  of  the 
home  which  an  American  man  gives  his  wife.  For 
Wyndham  was  very  much  in  love  with  Jane  Battle. 
It  did  not,  however,  prevent  him  from  finding  Mrs. 
Bellenden  an  interesting  study,  if  not  a  winning 
personality.  She  had  for  him  the  interest  of  the  un- 
usual, just  as  the  American  woman  has  the  same 
charm  for  Englishmen.  Mrs.  Bellenden's  views  of 
things  were  sure  to  be  totally  different  from  what 
Wyndham  had  been  accustomed  to  hear  from 
women. 

"I  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Bellenden,  giving 
Wyndham  his  second  cup  of  tea,  "  that  Jack  Thorny- 
croft  is  perfectly  devoted  to  your  sister.  See  that 
he  doesn't  play  fast  and  loose  with  her." 

At  that  Wyndham  put  his  cup  of  tea  down,  and 
lay  back  in  his  chair,  convulsed  with  his  peculiar 
silent  laughter.  The  idea  of  any  man  playing  fast 
and  loose  with  the  tall  and  beautiful  and  entirely 
competent  Dot,  was  delightfully  amusing  to  him. 


216     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Mrs.  Bellenden  thought  that  Wyndham's  putting 
his  cup  down  meant  that  his  tea  was  not  right,  and 
she  said  in  a  complaining  voice: 

"  Really,  I  haven't  had  tea  properly  served  since 
the  new  Butler  came." 

"Why  don't  you  discharge  him?"  asked  Wynd- 
ham,  regaining  his  gravity. 

"  Because  Mr.  Bellenden  engaged  him,  of  course," 
replied  Mrs.  Bellenden  with  some  surprise. 

Wyndham  took  out  his  notebook  and  carefully 
wrote : 

"  In  England  the  gentleman  of  the  house  engages 
the  butler,  and  discharges  him,  I  presume?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mrs.   Bellenden. 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  stand  in  the  shoes  of  an  Amer- 
ican husband  who  took  the  liberty  of  engaging  a 
butler,"  replied  Wyndham. 

"Who,  then,  in  America  engages  the  butler?" 
asked  Mrs.  Bellenden,  wonderingly. 

"  The  mistress  of  the  house.  The  head  of  the 
house,  or  rather  the  figurehead  of  the  house,  doesn't 
see  the  butler  until  he  is  already  engaged  in  his 
duties." 

"  I  shouldn't  like  the  responsibility,"  replied  Mrs. 
Bellenden  positively. 

Wyndham  said  no  more,  seeing  that  the  whole 
question  involved  endless  complications  with  an  im- 
possibility of  understanding  on  both  sides. 

Flora  Bellenden,  however,  had  her  secret  griev- 
ance against  Americans,  and  asked  Wyndham  if  he 


THE    COMEDY   OF    FATE  217 

had  seen  anything  lately  of  Mr.  Seymour  and  his 
daughter,  Madame  Fontarini. 

"  Not  since  I  visited  them  in  the  summer,"  re- 
plied Wyndham.  "  My  sister,  however,  has  been 
down  and  spent  some  days  at  King's  Lyndon." 

Then  he  proceeded  to  describe  the  beauties  and 
glories  of  the  rehabilitated  King's  Lyndon,  and 
spoke  with  enthusiasm  of  Madame  Fontarini's  grace 
and  charm,  which  were  enhanced  by  the  splendour 
of  her  environment. 

Nothing  Wyndham  could  have  said  would  have 
disquieted  and  angered  Mrs.  Bellenden  more  than 
this.  ., 

"  Do  you  let  your  sister  go  off  and  visit  people 
like  that  without  knowing  anything  about  them?  " 
she  asked. 

Her  eyes  were  certainly  very  handsome  and  could 
convey  those  elemental  passions  by  which  she  was 
ruled.  In  them  Wyndham  saw  clearly  hatred  of 
Seymour  and  Madame  Fontarini. 

"  They  know  as  much  about  us  as  we  know  about 
them,"  he  answered.  "  We  judge  for  ourselves. 
Most  people,  especially  men,  find  Madame  Fontarini 
charming.  So  do  I.  But  Mr.  Seymour  has  a 
peculiar  interest  for  me.  He  is  a  long  way  off  from  a 
fool,  and  yet  has  a  very  singular  simplicity.  Still 
when  one  considers  that  although  he  became  rich  by 
an  accident,  he  says,  he  seems  to  manage  his  money 
with  great  judgment,  or  rather  with  conservatism. 
He  spends  liberally,  but  I  don't  think  that  any- 


218     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

body  could  do  him,  as  you  say  in  England.  Bunco 
is  the  word  we  use  in  America." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Mrs.  Bellenden  slowly,  "  he  is 
the  escaped  criminal  whom  you  are  trying  to  trace." 

It  was  a  chance  shot,  but  it  gave  Wyndham  a 
great  and  sudden  shock.  He  immediately  turned 
the  conversation  and  would  say  no  more  about  Mr. 
Seymour  and  Madame  Fontarini.  Presently  he  got 
up  to  go,  and  Mrs.  Bellenden  was  left  alone. 

It  has  been  said  that  no  one  knows  what  pain 
is  who  has  not  suffered  jealousy.  What  Wyndham 
had  told  her  of  the  beauty  of  King's  Lyndon,  was 
like  salt  upon  an  open  wound.  It  was  she  who  ought 
by  rights  to  be  mistress  of  that  stately  abode.  Her 
tall  striking  figure  would  suit  those  large  and  lofty 
rooms  much  better  than  the  insignificant  little 
American,  for  so  Mrs.  Bellenden  characterised  Theo- 
dora's slight  and  delicate  person.  And  Fermor — 
how  insipid,  how  disappointing  was  life  without  the 
excitement,  nay,  the  very  risk  and  danger,  of  that 
affair!  How  ridiculous  was  his  objection  to  divorce! 
Why  should  her  life  have  been  spoiled  on  account 
of  an  absurd  quixotic  sentiment  against  divorce 
on  Fermor's  part !  He  was  no  better  than  other 
men,  yet  he  professed  some  of  the  scruples  of  the 
sternest  moralist,  the  religious  fanatic,  where  mar- 
riage was  concerned.  No  doubt  Seymour  was  an 
adventurer  with  a  handsome  daughter,  for  whom 
he  had  secured  a  distinguished  name,  and  finally 
they  had  robbed  her  of  Fermor.  At  that  juncture, 


THE    COMEDY   OF    FATE  219 

Tom  Bellenden  came  in  and  was  met  with  com- 
plaints of  the  butler.  For  in  Flora  Bellenden's  mind 
the  great  and  the  small  were  mixed  inexorably,  and 
all  the  proportions  of  things  had  ever  been  hope- 
lessly confused. 

Wyndham,  after  leaving  the  Chester  Street  house, 
walked  as  in  a  dream  along  the  street  in  the  dull 
London  atmosphere  of  an  autumn  afternoon.  Not 
once  until  that  moment  had  he  connected  Seymour 
with  the  ghastly  story  he  was  pursuing.  There 
were  some  points  of  resemblance,  but  others  totally 
at  variance.  The  man  in  question  was  not  married 
at  the  time  that  Theodora  must  have  been  born ;  and 
was  it  possible  that  this  mild,  humbly  voiced  Sey- 
mour could  have  struck  a  deadly  blow  to  any  man? 

Wyndham  could  not  bring  himself  to  think  this, 
but  the  possibility  once  suggested  to  him,  he  de- 
sired to  get  rid  of  it,  and  by  way  of  clearing  his 
own  mind  concerning  Seymour,  went  into  the  search 
with  redoubled  zest.  He  wrote  that  day  a  number 
of  letters  to  America,  and  began  going  all  over  the 
history  of  the  case  which  had  acquired  for  him  an 
extraordinary  interest. 

Wyndham  and  Dot  remained  the  whole  autumn 
in  London.  Wyndham's  reason  was  obvious ;  the 
Battles  were  in  their  great  Queen's  Gate  house  for 
the  winter.  Dot  was  engaged  in  a  conscientious 
sightseeing  which  would  have  taxed  the  physique 
of  a  prize  fighter  but  which  she  accomplished  with- 
out so  much  as  a  headache,  or  even  a  footache.  Cap- 


"220     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

tain  John  Thornycroft  had  been  advanced  to  the  fa- 
vour of  being  called  "  Jack  "  by  the  adorable  Dot, 
who  otherwise  treated  him  with  majestic  indiffer- 
ence. This  was  something  new  to  this  highly  eligi- 
ble heir  to  a  baronetcy,  and  as  attractive  to  him  as 
Theodora's  calm  ignoring  of  Lord  Fermor's  rank 
had  been  to  the  much-chased  future  Earl  of  Castle- 
maine.  Jack  Thornycroft  was  hopelessly  and  help- 
lessly in  love  with  Dot  Wyndham,  but  this  seemed 
to  have  in  it  no  element  of  novelty  to  that  imposing 
young  person  of  nineteen.  Neither  Wyndham  nor 
Dot  had  been  invited  to  call  in  Queen's  Gate,  but 
there  were  many  chance  meetings  between  Wynd- 
ham and  Jane  Battle.  Something  like  a  silent  con- 
spiracy to  see  each  other  as  often  as  possible  ex- 
isted between  them.  When  Jane  took  her  morning 
walk  in  the  Park,  Wyndham  generally  turned  up, 
and  after  Jane  had  conscientiously  told  this  to  Lady 
Susan,  she  was  directed  to  walk  in  another  part  of 
the  Park.  But  by  some  occult  means  Wyndham  was 
sure  to  find  it  out,  and  frequented  the  same  region. 
The  Battles  went  to  the  theatre  on  Monday  nights 
when  they  went  at  all,  and  on  those  evenings  Wynd- 
ham made  a  point  of  looking  in  at  all  the  playhouses 
where  the  domestic  dramas  were  being  performed, 
and  seldom  failed  of  having  a  word  with  Jane. 

All  this  was  most  exasperating  to  Lady  Susan, 
who,  with  renewed  energy,  looked  about  her  for  an 
eligible  bachelor  peer  upon  whom  to  bestow  Jane. 
But  eligible  bachelor  peers  are  scarce  and  are  not  for 


THE    COMEDY   OF   FATE  221 

the  Jane  Battles  of  this  world.  To  add  to  this  was 
the  obvious  fact  that  Jack  Thornycroft  was  hope- 
lessly in  the  foils  of  Dot  Wyndham,  so  that  Lady 
Susan's  dissatisfaction  was  very  great. 

Wyndham  was  still  working  hard  upon  his 
theories  concerning  the  man  he  was  seeking,  and  the 
further  he  penetrated  into  the  maze  the  more 
puzzled  he  was.  To  add  to  his  perplexities,  he  found, 
by  that  psychic  action  which  makes  one  force  in- 
fluence another  force  widely  remote,  that  another 
newspaper  besides  his  own  was  looking  into  the  mys- 
terious case.  Wyndham  was  sorry  that  he  had  ever 
heard  of  it. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

THE  BATTLES  OF  THE  SPIRIT 

THE  autumn  at  King's  Lyndon  was  unusually  mild 
and  sunny.  The  work  in  the  great  house  progressed 
so  well  that  by  December  it  was  in  a  beautiful  state  of 
restoration.  The  long  and  lofty  picture  gallery  still 
remained  empty,  and  there  were  few  works  of  art  to 
replace  those  which  had  been  eaten  and  drunk,  so  to 
speak,  by  Lord  Castlemaine,  but  Theodora  wisely  de- 
termined not  to  buy  pictures  rashly. 

Beyond  the  general  suspicion  afloat  in  the  county 
and  in  London  that  Lord  Fermor  might  eventually 
come  once  more  into  possession  of  his  own  through 
Seymour's  millions,  nothing  was  known  of  any  mar- 
riage engagement  with  Madame  Fontarini.  The 
meeting  of  Parliament  in  October  kept  Fermor  busy, 
and  it  was  arranged  between  Theodora  and  himself 
that  his  visits  to  King's  Lyndon  would  take  place 
when  no  one  else  was  there.  Fermor  had  no  fancy  for 
letting  the  world  know  that  he  was  in  a  state  of  sus- 
pension, and  probation,  as  it  were,  and  Theodora 
had  an  equal  aversion  to  public  speculation  upon  her 
affairs.  It  was  settled,  however,  that  the  engage- 
ment should  be  announced  the  first  of  the  year  and 
the  marriage  take  place  the  middle  of  January,  very 
quietly. 


BATTLES    OF    THE    SPIRIT 

Theodora  made  several  visits  to  London,  and 
each  time  she  saw  Father  White.  The  state  of 
uncertainty  in  her  mind  was  very  great,  and  when 
she  tried  to  speak  with  Fermor  about  it,  he  said 
smiling : 

"  I  was  brought  up  to  believe  that  it  was  very  un- 
English  to  speculate  upon  religion,  and  that  people 
in  good  society  ought  not  to  study  the  Thirty-nine 
Articles,  but  simply  accept  them." 

They  were  walking  together  up  and  down  the  long 
terrace  in  the  sombre,  still  autumn  afternoon,  as  they 
talked. 

"But  have  you  not  in  your  reading,  especially 
when  you  were  at  Oxford,  become  interested  in  what 
one  may  call  the  philosophy  of  religion  ?  "  asked 
Theodora. 

"  No,"  answered  Fermor.  "  My  mind  is  not  of 
that  cast.  It  is,  I  think,  purely  economic  and  gov- 
ernmental. I  have  been  all  my  life  studying  how 
things  could  be  improved  by  legislation,  and  that  has 
not  left  much  room  for  anything  else.  When  I  was 
a  Guardsman  I  spent  my  leisure  in  studying  Erskine 
Mayo." 

"Who  is  Erskine  Mayo?  " 

"  Oh,  he's  a  fellow  who  wrote  a  lot  about  parlia- 
mentary usage.  I  shall  find  Erskine  Mayo's  book 
very  convenient  now." 

"  But  have  you  no  thoughts  or  aspirations  beyond 
this  world?"  persisted  Theodora,  looking  at  Fer- 
mor with  wondering  eyes. 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  Yes." 

"  Don't  you  feel  the  want  of  help  and  enlighten- 
ment? " 

"  Very  much  up  to  a  certain  point — that  is  to 
say,  when  I  began  to  think  that  you  would  marry 
me.  But  although  I  have  been  until  now  an  idler,  I 
know  myself  to  be  by  nature  a  man  of  action.  When 
I  live  decently  and  try  to  be  a  gentleman  in  soul  as 
well  as  in  manners,  I  feel  at  ease  in  mind.  I  leave  the 
rest  to  the  God  who  made  me.  That  is  my  creed. 
Not  at  all  a  speculative  one,  as  you  will  see,  but 
plain  and  practical." 

Theodora  looked  down,  and  sighed.  Would  he 
ever  be  in  sympathy  with  her  on  those  points,  or 
would  she,  after  her  marriage,  still  be  compelled  to 
turn  to  Ashburton  and  Father  White  for  an  under- 
standing of  her  soul? 

"  There  is  one  point,  however,"  she  said  after  a 
pause,  "  upon  which  I  should  like  very  much  to 
know  your  feelings.  It  is  the  sacramental  idea  of 
marriage.  In  my  former  marriage,  I  was  the  most 
disappointed  and  wretched  of  women  and  felt  my- 
self degraded  by  being  the  wife  of  a  man  like  Pietro 
Fontarini.  But  the  idea  of  dissolving  the  marriage 
never  occurred  to  me,  and  I  assure  you  I  could  have 
died  with  less  fear  and  reluctance  than  have  been 
divorced  and  remarried.  Sometimes  persons,  mean- 
ing to  be  kind,  suggested  a  divorce  to  me,  and  that 
I  might  know  new  happiness  in  another  marriage, 
but  I  felt  myself  so  insulted  by  the  idea  that  I  never 


BATTLES    OF    THE    SPIRIT          225 

even  retained  those  mistaken  friends  as  friends  after- 
ward." 

"  In  this,"  answered  Fermor  promptly,  "  we  are 
entirely  of  the  same  opinion.  I  can't  say  that  I  have 
the  sacramental  idea  of  marriage  that  you  have,  but 
it  seems  to  me  to  be  a  contract  of  such  infinite  deli- 
cacy, of  such  stupendous  importance,  that  as  a  mere 
civil  contract,  it  must  be  maintained  at  all  cost.  I 
have  been  called  dogmatic  and  fanatical  in  discussing 
this  matter,  and  perhaps  I  am,  but  I  have  no  fancy 
for  the  experimental  marriage." 

There  was  no  doubt  of  Fermor's  entire  sympathy 
with  Theodora  on  that  point.  Both  had  that  genius 
for  constancy  which  often  takes  the  place  of  law, 
and  by  a  singular  coincidence  each  had  cherished  a 
high  ideal  of  marriage  under  a  strain  fiercer  than 
that  which  causes  many  men  and  women  to  break 
away  from  a  miserable  marriage. 

While  Fermor  was  speaking,  the  hateful  memory 
of  Flora  Bellenden  rose  to  his  mind.  But  as  Theo- 
dora's link  with  the  man  she  hated  was  to  her  in- 
dissoluble, so  to  Fermor,  even  in  his  first  impetuous 
passion,  when  Mrs.  Bellenden  was  to  him  an  aber- 
ration and  an  evil  charm,  the  thought  of  conferring 
upon  her  the  name  of  wife  had  never  seemed  possible 
to  him.  He  was  not  a  casuist  and  he  had  never  de- 
nied, even  to  himself,  his  evil  behaviour,  but  to  him 
it  would  have  been  made  ten  thousand  times  worse 
by  putting  on  it  the  name  of  marriage;  it  would 
be  like  issuing  false  coin,  or  introducing  a  marked 


226     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

card.  He  felt  the  more  drawn  to  Theodora  by  seeing 
in  her  a  sublimated  ideal  of  marriage,  but  the  sacra- 
mental marriage  was  new  to  him. 

After  a  pause,  Theodora  said : 

"I  have  seen  a  Roman  Catholic  priest  several 
times  lately  when  I  have  been  in  London,  Father 
White,  Major  Ashburton's  friend.  Roman  Catho- 
lics alone  believe  marriage  to  be  a  sacrament,  and 
that  makes  a  very  strong  appeal  to  me  for  the 
Roman  Catholic  religion." 

Fermor  remained  silent.  They  continued  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  terrace.  The  landscape  had  the 
austere  beauty  of  the  season  and  the  lake  lay  bathed 
in  a  coppery  glow  from  the  declining  sun.  Theo- 
dora felt,  with  a  sinking  heart,  that  Fermor's  silence 
was  the  silence  of  displeasure. 

The  idea  of  Theodora  giving  her  confidences  to 
another  man  was  not  pleasant  to  Fermor's  British 
mind,  but  he  knew  not  exactly  how  to  object,  and, 
after  all,  Father  White  was  indorsed  by  Ashburton, 
and  that  went  a  great  way  with  Fermor. 

Then,  with  a  heart  still  disturbed,  but  full  of  cour- 
age, Theodora  said: 

"  I  should  wish  the  marriage  between  us  to  be  per- 
formed by  the  Roman  Catholic  form,  because  it  is 
sacramental." 

Fermor  liked  this  still  less.  If  Theodora  had  been 
an  Englishwoman  he  would  have  expressed  this  dis- 
like frankly,  but  his  study  of  Theodora's  character 
had  shown  him  so  great  an  unlikeness  to  all  the  other 


BATTLES    OF    THE    SPIRIT 

women  he  had  ever  known,  that  he  was  guarded  in 
his  procedure.  She  seemed,  as  in  the  matter  of  the  en- 
gagement and  many  other  things,  to  reason  calmly 
upon  a  proposition,  to  take  a  stand,  and  then  to  tell 
him  of  it,  and  expect  his  acquiescence.  As  her  de- 
cision always  seemed  to  be  fixed  in  advance,  the  ques- 
tion of  opposition  became  difficult.  But  for  all  that, 
Fermor  felt  stirring  within  him  that  complaisance 
of  the  man  toward  a  woman,  admired  and  loved. 

Fermor  had  the  reserve  of  a  perfectly  sincere  man 
in  making  professions  of  love  to  a  woman  who 
brought  with  her  a  great  fortune,  and  for  whom  he 
felt,  from  the  first  moment  he  met  her,  profound  re- 
spect. Each  was  on  guard,  as  it  were,  against  the 
other,  to  conceal  the  exaltation  of  passion. 

Theodora  gave  a  glance  at  Fermor,  who  had  put 
on  the  impenetrable  English  mask,  which  indicates 
displeasure. 

"  Would  you  object  to  our  being  married  b'y  the 
Roman  Catholic  service  ?  "  she  asked  presently. 

Fermor  smiled,  as  he  replied: 

"  You  are  putting  me  in  a  delicate  position.  It 
is  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  gentleman  would  object 
to  any  method  which  unites  him  with  a  lady  whom  he 
wishes  to  marry." 

"  That  sounds  very  well,"  replied  Theodora 
calmly,  "  but  judging  by  what  I  have  seen  of  Eng- 
lishmen, they  have  no  hesitation  in  expressing  their 
objections  and  wishes,  even  to  the  ladies  whom  they 
are  about  to  marry." 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

This  was  true,  but  Fermor  could  hardly  explain 
that  an  American  was  a  very  different  person  to 
deal  with  from  a  woman  of  his  own  country. 

Theodora,  with  the  American  nimbleness  of  mind, 
saw  at  once  what  Fermor's  real  feelings  were,  and 
proceeded  to  think  out  for  herself  with  the  rapidity 
which  always  startled  Fermor,  what  she  should  do. 
The  sun  became  a  huge  red  disk  on  the  edge  of  the 
horizon,  and  a  delicate  grey  mist  was  rising  from 
the  brown  earth,  and  enveloping  the  rolling  stretches 
of  the  park,  the  great  naked  trees,  shivering  and 
complaining  in  the  autumn  wind,  and  the  clumps  of 
evergreens.  As  Fermor  watched  Theodora's  look  of 
concentrated  reflection,  he  knew  that  when  she  spoke 
something  positive  would  have  been  decided,  and  he 
was  secretly  amused  at  himself,  knowing  that  he 
would  be  forced  to  accept  Theodora's  theories,  or — 
give  her  up. 

After  ten  minutes  of  silence,  Theodora  spoke. 

"  I  see  that  you  don't  like  the  idea  of  being  mar- 
ried by  the  Roman  Catholic  ritual,  and  I  see  the 
delicacy  of  your  position.  Believe  me,  I  would  not 
seem  to  exert  the  slightest  influence  over  your  will, 
but " 

Here  she  stopped  in  the  walk  and  turned  her  dark 
eyes  full  upon  Fermor,  with  deep  meaning  and  reso- 
lution in  them. 

"I  can't — I  can't  give  up  this  sacramental  mar- 
riage. I  would  give  more  than  you  would  think  pos- 
sible, to  be  married  in  a  church  where  I  feel  that 


BATTLES    OF    THE    SPIRIT 

Jesus  Himself  is  present  on  the  altar.  That  is  im- 
possible, but  it  is  possible  to  be  married  here,  at 
King's  Lyndon,  by  Father  White.  Every  time  I  see 
Father  White  I  advance  a  step  nearer  to  becoming  a 
Roman  Catholic,  accepting  what  I  can,  and  praying 
for  light  upon  the  rest.  One  thing  is  certain.  My 
mind,  my  will,  my  soul,  are  all  possessed  by  the  belief 
in  the  Real  Presence,  and  in  the  sacramental  nature 
of  marriage,  and  they  are  two  forces  drawing  me 
very  fast  toward  the  Roman  Catholic  Church." 

This  was  positive  enough  in  all  conscience. 

Fermor  took  time,  too,  to  make  his  reply,  and  then 
said  in  a  manner,  kind,  yet  cold: 

"Perhaps  I  am  not  a  qualified  person  to  deter- 
mine upon  those  matters.  It  is  certain  that  the  po- 
sition of  a  recruit  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  is 
not  pleasant  in  England.  I  am  not  thinking  wholly 
of  myself  in  this  matter,  but  of  you,  and  since  you 
so  frankly  admit  Father  White's  influence  over  you, 
it  can't  surprise  you  that  I  am  not  entirely  pleased 
at  the  thought  of  another  man  having  ascendency 
over  your  mind — an  intellectual  ascendency,  which 
I  am  afraid  I  can  never  acquire." 

Every  word  spoken  by  Fermor  showed  Theodora 
more  and  more  that,  near  as  they  were  in  their  com- 
mon belief  on  the  subject  of  marriage,  there  was  a 
gulf  between  them  in  their  practice.  She  sighed  a 
little,  and  they  resumed  their  quiet  walk.  The  twi- 
light was  coming  on  apace,  and  the  sun  was  quite 
gone,  leaving  a  line  of  blazing  light  on  the  horizon 


230     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

that  was  fast  sinking  in  the  purple  shadows  of  the 
evening  sky. 

"  It  might  have  been  better,"  said  Theodora  pres- 
ently, with  a  melancholy  little  smile,  "  if  you  had 
chosen  to  marry  an  Englishwoman.  They  carry 
the  theory  of  submission  much  farther  than  we  do. 
There  is  such  a  tremendous  amount  of  submission  in 
every  woman  that  I  think  I  could  carry  it  to  the 
very  verge  of  conscience.  But  this — this  is  a  matter 
of  conscience." 

"  That  settles  it,"  answered  Fennor,  relaxing  a 
little.  "  When  the  word  conscience  comes  into  a  dis- 
cussion, everything  is  ended,  especially  with  a  wo- 
man, and  a  woman  like  you.  I  shall  say  no  more.  I 
can't  prevent  the  world  from  saying  things,  and  I 
am  afraid  it  will  make  your  position  a  little  difficult 
with  my  family." 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  can  be,"  answered  Theodora 
in  a  soft,  cool  voice.  "  What  can  they  do  to  me  ?  " 

"  Say  disagreeable  things  at  you." 

"Then  I  shall  keep  away  from  them  and  make 
them  keep  away  from  me." 

"You  will  find  my  aunt,  Lady  Susan  Battle, 
charging  down  on  you  in  spite  of  everything." 

"  Let  her  try-  it  once,"  replied  Theodora. 

Fermor  laughed  a  little,  and  said  he  hoped  he 
should  be  on  hand  to  see  the  encounter,  having 
no  fears  that  Theodora  could  hold  her  own  against 
Lady  Susan. 

It  was  then  quite  dark  and  they  entered  the  house 


BATTLES    OF    THE    SPIRIT          231 

where  Theodora  gave  Fermor  and  her  father  tea  in 
the  little  yellow  morning  room.  The  room  was  so 
closely  associated  in  Fermor's  mind  with  his  mother, 
that  it  exercised  a  kind  of  spell  upon  him,  making 
him  gentle.  Many  little  things  had  been  left  in  the 
room  which  reminded  him  of  the  dead  Lady  Castle- 
maine.  Upon  a  small  cabinet  were  collected  some 
quaint  Dresden  shepherds  and  shepherdesses,  and 
other  small  ornaments  found  among  the  debris  of  the 
house.  It  seemed  to  Fermor  as  if  it  were  a  sort  of 
shrine  to  his  mother's  memory. 

It  would  seem  as  if  Theodora  were  trying  all  her 
softest  arts  to  reconcile  Fermor  to  what  she  had  de- 
termined upon  doing.  Nothing  could  exceed  the 
graciousness  of  her  manner  toward  him,  and  when 
they  had  finished  tea,  she  rose  and,  going  to  the  cab- 
inet, pulled  out  a  drawer  with  a  book  of  old  music 
in  it.  Fermor  recognised  the  book  at  once,  and  said : 

"  I  remember  all  those  old-fashioned  waltzes  and 
airs  my  mother  used  to  play.  I  have  not  heard  them 
since  I  was  a  child." 

Theodora  went  to  the  piano  and,  opening  the  book, 
played  the  simple  music  with  much  sweetness  and  ex- 
pression. Her  piano  playing  in  no  way  compared 
with  her  violin  playing,  but  was  extremely  pretty 
and  expressive.  The  spell  became  complete.  Fermor 
felt,  as  on  previous  occasions,  that  he  had  no  power 
of  resistance  against  influences  so  sweet  and  appeal- 
ing, and  an  artfulness  which  was  so  feminine  and 
profound. 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Fermor  could  not  remain  to  dinner,  but  when, 
about  seven  o'clock,  he  was  going,  Seymour  went 
out  of  the  room,  leaving  him  and  Theodora  to  them- 
selves. 

"  I  hope,"  said  Theodora,  "  you  are  not  hurt  or 
offended  by  what  I  said,  or  what  I  feel  obliged  to 
do,  as  I  explained  to  you." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  replied  Fermor  with  much  sin~ 
cerity.  "  I  have  told  you  what  I  think.  That  is 
all." 

"Father  White  has  no  more  ascendency  over  me 
than  Plato  may  be  said  to  have,  or  Pascal,  or  even 
Amiel.  Ami  el  had  a  great  influence  over  me  until 
lately.  I  accepted  his  gentle  despair,  the  feeling  that 
came  over  him  at  the  end  that  life  meant,  '  To  ap- 
pear, to  struggle,  to  disappear.'  It  added  to  my  un- 
happiness,  for  I  believed  it.  Looking  back  over  it 
all,  I  don't  know  why  I  ever  should  have  entered  the 
open  door  of  a  church.  I  certainly  had  no  faith,  or 
even  belief.  But  once  I  had  entered,  I  could  not  keep 
away." 

Fermor  replied  with  his  usual  calm  courtesy. 

"  The  chief  thing  is  that  I  shall  have  the  privilege 
of  making  you  my  wife.  All  I  have  said  has  been 
with  a  view  to  making  your  position  pleasanter.  I 
shall  say  nothing  more  upon  the  mode  of  our  mar- 
riage, but  you  may  command  me." 

Theodora  knew  how  to  repay  this.  They  were 
standing  together  before  the  fireplace,  the  sparkling 
firelight  falling  on  Theodora's  perplexed  face.  She 


BATTLES    OF    THE    SPIRIT          233 

turned  to  Fermor,  her  eyes  downcast,  and  slipping 
her  hand  into  his,  leaned  toward  him.  Their  lips  met 
as  lovers.  Theodora's  slender  arm  stole  about  Fer- 
mor's  neck  in  the  first  unsought  caress  she  had  ever 
given  him.  Their  souls  rushed  together;  each  felt 
an  infinite  patience  and  tenderness  for  the  other;  all 
was  peace  between  them. 

As  Fermor  rode  back  through  the  frosty  evening 
to  Longstaffe  he  smiled  grimly  to  himself  at  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  had  been  defeated  at  every  point. 
The  whole  thing  was  altogether  novel;  there  were 
unexpected  turns  and  twists,  where  he  had  supposed 
he  would  travel  the  broad  highway  and  dead  level  of 
the  commonplace.  At  every  moment  he  was  made  to 
feel  that  it  was  entirely  optional  with  him  to  give  up 
the  marriage  altogether.  Had  Theodora  been  an 
Englishwoman,  he  would  have  been  held  to  his  en- 
gagement as  strictly  as  a  bank  exacts  payment  of  a 
note.  But  in  the  present  case,  although  an  accepted 
lover,  he  was  still  in  the  position  of  a  suitor.  Then 
the  realisation  come  over  him  of  Theodora's  eyes, 
darkly  soft,  uplifted  to  his,  the  touch  of  her  little 
hand,  the  quickened  beating  of  his  heart  as  he  held 
her  to  him.  He  fell  into  a  delicious  reverie,  and  the 
quick  gallop  of  his  horse  along  the  dark  highroad 
became  a  slow  walk.  Fermor  had  a  strong  imagina- 
tion and  saw  before  him  the  sweetest  vision  in  the 
world — a  perfect  marriage. 

Fermor  all  along  had  felt  himself  sliding  softly  in 
love  with  her  and  he  began  to  wonder  if  that  event 


234     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

had  not  already  happened.     He  wondered  whether 
Theodora  were  at  all  in  love  with  him. 

As  he  dismounted  in  front  of  his  own  door 
and  walked  into  the  large,  cold,  dimly  lighted  man- 
sion, the  picture  of  Theodora  in  his  mother's  little 
yellow  room  and  the  echo  of  the  music  seemed  very 
attractive  to  him.  He  felt  no  aversion  to  the  idea 
of  being  married — which  is  a  rare  thing  with  an 
Englishman  with  a  courtesy  title.  He  had  almost 
forgotten  the  existence  of  Flora  Bellenden. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

THE  DARKNESS  AND  THE  LIGHT 

BUT  Flora  Bellenden  had  by  no  means  forgotten 
Lord  Fermor.  Envy  and  ennui,  two  deadly  foes  to  a 
woman's  peace,  haunted  her.  She  had  relished  the  fact 
that  for  years  she  stood,  like  a  lioness  in  the  path, 
between  ambitious  mothers  and  daughters,  and  Fer- 
mor's  prospective  coronet;  and  then  had  come  this 
insignificant  American,  for  so  Mrs.  Bellenden  charac- 
terised Theodora  Fontarini ;  and — all  was  over.  She 
grasped  eagerly  at  the  idea  that  something  was 
wrong  about  Seymour,  and  was  convinced,  without 
investigation,  that  not  only  he,  but  his  money,  was 
tainted  with  villainy.  Tom  Bellenden,  the  most 
patient  of  men,  found  his  domestic  hearth  a  very 
unpleasant  place  in  those  autumn  days. 

One  afternoon,  late  in  December,  Wyndham  was 
passing  Mrs.  Bellenden's  door  just  as  she  alighted 
from  her  brougham.  She  was  looking  very  hand- 
some in  her  large,  artificial  way,  with  her  velvet  and 
furs,  and  Wyndham,  who  was  no  more  proof  than 
any  other  man  against  a  good-looking  woman,  ac- 
cepted her  peremptory  invitation  to  come  in  and 
have  tea  with  her. 

When  they  reached  the  drawing-room,  and  Mrs. 
Bellenden  threw  aside  her  satin  cloak,  Wyndham 

235 


noticed  a  diamond  pendant  sparkling  upon  her 
breast.  But  he  soon  forgot  it  in  the  interesting  pro- 
gramme of  tea.  Mrs.  Bellenden  at  once  began  upon 
a  subject  which  was  plainly  distasteful  to  Wyndham 
— the  questions  as  to  whether  Seymour  were  the  man 
for  whom  the  authorities  and  some  amateurs  had  been 
hunting  for  twenty  years.  Wyndham  parried  Mrs. 
Bellenden  very  ably,  but  he  could  not  get  her  off 
the  subject.  It  shortened  his  visit,  and  when  he  rose, 
Mrs.  Bellenden  was  still  plaguing  him  on  the  sub- 
ject. 

"  Really,"  he  said  coolly,  "  I  can't  discuss  this 
matter  any  further.  My  sister  and  I  have  received 
much  kindness  from  Mr.  Seymour  and  Madame  Fon- 
tarini,  and  it  would  be  an  infamy  for  me  to  question 
Mr.  Seymour's  former  life  in  any  way." 

As  Wyndham  stood  looking  at  Mrs.  Bellenden, 
she  put  her  hand  to  her  throat  and  her  face  grew 
pale. 

"  My  pendant,"  she  said,  "  it  is  lost." 

"  No,  it  is  not,"  replied  Wyndham,  "  I  noticed 
you  had  it  on  when  you  threw  off  your  cloak.  It  has 
merely  dropped  on  the  floor." 

At  that  moment  Tom  Bellenden  came  in  from  the 
further  room  and  shook  hands  with  Wyndham,  whom 
he  sincerely  liked.  Mrs.  Bellenden's  pallor  and 
trembling  was  obvious  to  even  honest,  dull  Tom 
Bellenden,  for  she  loved  her  diamonds  as  mothers 
love  their  children.  She  went  out  of  the  room  quickly 
and  began  searching  carefully,  the.  carpeted  stairs. 


DARKNESS    AND    LIGHT  237 

"  Mrs.  Bellenden  has  dropped  her  diamond  pendant 
somewhere  in  the  house,"  explained  Wyndham,  be- 
ginning to  examine  about  the  room. 

Tom  Bellenden  joined  in  the  search,  ringing  the 
bell  meanwhile  for  the  footman.  Outside  the  door 
they  heard  the  man  coming  up  the  stairs  and  Mrs. 
Bellenden  accosting  him. 

"  You  are  not  wanted,"  she  said,  "  the  bell  was 
rung  by  mistake." 

The  man  went  away  and  Bellenden  came  out  on 
the  landing  and  said  to  his  wife : 

"  I  rang  the  bell  for  James  to  help  look  for  your 
pendant." 

"  It  is  better  not  to  tell  the  servants  it  is  lost 
until  we  have  looked  for  it,"  she  said.  She  was 
trembling  and  even  weeping,  and  Bellenden,  putting 
his  hand  kindly  on  her  arm,  said : 

"  Don't  fret  yourself  so  about  it ;  after  all  it  was 
only  paste  and  I  can  afford  to  give  you  another." 

At  this,  Mrs.  Bellenden  made  an  effort  to  recover 
herself. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  it  was  only  paste,  but  I  liked 
it." 

She  continued  to  search  nervously  upstairs  and 
down  for  the  trinket,  and  was  assisted  by  her  hus- 
band and  Wyndham.  But  the  pendant  could  not  be 
found.  Her  nervousness  and  agitation  could  not  be 
concealed,  and  increased  every  moment.  Wyndham 
having  helped  all  he  could  in  the  unavailing  hunt, 
took  his  leave,  assuring  Mrs.  Bellenden  that  the 


238     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ornament  must  eventually  be  found  in  the  drawing- 
room. 

Bellenden  tried  to  persuade  his  wife  to  give  over 
the  search  or  to  let  the  servants  assist,  but  she  ob- 
stinately refused.  She  walked  about  the  drawing- 
room,  now  lighted  up,  and  shook  the  curtains,  and 
moved  sofa  pillows  and  looked  again  and  again  in 
the  same  spot  as  if  unable  to  persuade  herself  that 
the  trinket  was  gone.  Bellenden,  standing  on  the 
hearth  rug,  watched  her,  a  faint  suspicion  dawning 
upon  his  dull  mind.  Mrs.  Bellenden  left  the  room 
and  began  again  the  fourth  or  fifth  search  of  the 
stairs.  Half  a  minute  after  she  went  out,  Bellenden, 
glancing  downward,  saw  under  the  cover  of  the  tea 
tray,  the  pendant,  where  it  had  dropped  from  his 
wife's  throat,  and  had  slipped  under  the  tray  cover. 
He  took  the  trinket  to  the  light  to  examine  it,  re- 
calling his  wife's  having  shown  it  to  him  on  the  day 
of  Fermor's  last  visit.  She  had  said  that  it  cost  but 
ten  pounds,  and  he  had  rather  disapproved  of  it  as 
being  too  glittering  a  sham.  Now  as  he  turned  it 
over  in  his  hand,  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  was  not  a 
sham,  but  a  splendid  and  costly  ornament.  He  put 
it  quietly  in  his  pocket  and  going  out  in  the  street 
called  a  cab  and  drove  to  one  of  the  big  jewelry 
shops  in  Bond  Street.  Going  in,  he  asked  to  see  the 
manager.  The  man  appeared,  and  Bellenden  inquired 
of  him  the  probable  value  of  the  ornament. 

The  manager,  turning  it  over  in  his  hand,  smiled 
and  shook  his  head. 


DARKNESS    AND    LIGHT  239 

"  It  is  a  doubtful  business  appraising  diamonds 
off-hand,  but  I  sold  a  pendant  of  very  much  the  same 
style  as  this,  with  the  same  number  of  stones  and 
none  larger,  for  four  hundred  pounds,  and  considered 
it  cheap." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Bellenden,  going  out. 

When  he  reached  home  it  was  near  dinner  time.  He 
went  straight  to  his  wife's  room  and  knocked,  and 
receiving  no  answer,  entered. 

She  was  huddled,  still  in  her  street  dress,  upon  a 
sofa,  and  was  weeping  violently.  The  barbaric  love 
of  splendour  which  was  very  marked  in  her,  revealed 
itself  with  great  intensity  in  the  loss  of  the  jewels; 
she  lamented  them  as  a  woman  laments  a  lost  child. 
When  her  husband  came  up  to  her  and  she  saw  the 
glittering  thing  in  his  hand,  the  joy  of  recovering 
it  overcame  both  her  prudence  and  her  fear.  She 
uttered  a  little  cry  and  held  out  her  hand  to  seize  the 
trinket,  but  Bellenden  held  on  to  it.  His  stolid, 
usually  good-natured  face  wore  an  expression  she 
had  never  seen  before — an  expression  of  rage  and 
menace.  He  held  the  ornament  in  his  hand  and  said 
to  her  slowly : 

"  I  understand  it  all.  You  lied  to  me  when  you 
said  it  was  paste." 

There  had  always  been  in  Flora  Bellenden's  mind 
a  latent  fear  of  this  easy-going,  indulgent  husband. 
She  felt  it  now  so  much  that  it  kept  her  silent,  while 
her  face  grew  pale  under  her  rouge.  Bellenden 
seized  her  arm  in  a  grip  unconsciously  hard,  raised 


,240     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

her  to  her  feet  and  led  her  to  a  writing-desk  in  the 
room. 

"  Put  this  thing  up  and  address  it  in  your  own 
handwriting  to  Lord  Fermor  immediately." 

The  thought  of  giving  up  the  diamonds  was 
heart-breaking  to  this  woman  who  loved  them  so 
passionately.  But  she  knew  it  was  useless  to  make 
any  protest.  With  trembling  hands,  she  put  the 
pendant  in  a  box,  tied,  sealed  and  addressed  it  under 
the  compulsion  of  her  husband's  eye.  Then  he  said: 

"  Put  on  your  hat  and  come  with  me." 

Usually  Mrs.  Bellenden  was  extremely  fluent,  but 
not  to-night.  A  new  force  represented  by  the  sup- 
posed fury  in  Bellenden's  eyes,  his  stern  grip  of  her 
arm,  had  come  into  her  life.  She  put  on  a  hat,  threw 
a  cloak  around  her,  and  went  downstairs  and  out  in 
the  street  with  her  husband,  who  carried  the  little 
parcel  in  his  hand.  She  walked  with  him  a  few 
squares  until  they  came  to  a  dingy  little  postoffice. 
Rage  was  in  her  heart  against  both  her  husband  and 
Fermor,  but  most  against  her  husband.  It  seemed  as 
if  the  last  ignominy  was  offered  her  in  making  her 
come  like  a  servant  to  do  an  errand. 

But  she  dare  not  protest.  She  stood  by  the  little 
barred  window  while  a  pale  and  wearied  clerk  took 
the  parcel  and  handed  the  postoffice  receipt  to  Bel- 
lenden, who  put  it  in  his  pocket.  Then  the  husband 
and  wife,  hating  each  other,  walked  back  through  the 
night  to  the  Chester  Street  house.  Bellenden,  whose 
ideas  were  few,  and  whose  words  were  fewer,  said  not 


DARKNESS   AND   LIGHT 

one  word.  He  could  not  have  expressed  to  save  his 
life,  a  tithe  of  the  emotions  that  agitated  his  silent 
and  sombre  nature. 

Once  in  the  house,  Mrs.  Bellenden,  with  silent  fury 
in  her  face,  excused  herself  from  dinner  and  went  to 
her  room.  Bellenden  said  he  would  go  to  his  club 
for  dinner.  Instead,  he  walked  through  the  gloomy 
night  toward  the  Thames  embankment.  He  found 
himself  leaning  over  the  parapet,  looking  at  the 
black  and  turbid  water  upon  which  the  electric  light 
glared  fiercely.  He  gazed  at  it  so  long  and  so 
moodily  that  a  policeman  close  by  came  nearer  and 
kept  a  watchful  eye  upon  him. 

Bellenden  turned  and  saw  the  guardian  of  the 
peace,  who  radiated  suspicion  in  every  glance  and 
attitude.  By  an  effort,  Bellenden  pulled  himself  to- 
gether, and  stepping  into  a  cab,  was  driven  to  his 
club.  He  could  not  recall  to  save  his  life,  whether 
he  had  dined  or  not — a  thing  least  likely  of  all  for 
Tom  Bellenden  to  forget. 

In  the  Chester  Street  house,  Mrs.  Bellenden,  in  a 
frenzy,  walked  up  and  down  in  her  room.  It  was 
small,  and  she  felt  caged  in  it  and  went  into  the 
dimly  lighted  drawing-room.  The  house  was  not 
well  ordered,  and  the  room  still  bore  evidences  of 
having  been  thoroughly  ransacked.  Involuntarily, 
Mrs.  Bellenden  moved  a  chair  in  place,  and  then,  it 
was  her  turn  to  find  something — a  small  newspaper 
rolled  into  a  wad.  It  was  an  American  newspaper, 
and  as  such,  of  no  interest  to  Mrs.  Bellenden ;  but  as 


she  was  about  to  throw  it  in  the  fire,  her  eye  caught 
a  marked  column.  She  read  it,  and  re-read  it,  her 
face  changing  from  sullen  agitation  to  an  expression 
of  triumph. 

Ten  minutes  later,  she  rang  for  a  cab,  and  drove 
to  a  different  postoffice  from  the  one  to  which  she 
had  been  dragged  by  her  husband.  He  had  taught 
her,  however,  how  to  insure  the  delivery  of  a  valu- 
able package.  In  her  hand  she  carried  a  little  par- 
cel, addressed  to  Lord  Castlemaine,  at  Monte  Carlo, 
which  she  registered  as  coming  from  A.  N.  Wynd- 
ham,  who  might  be  man,  woman  or  devil,  as  far  as 
the  postoffice  clerk  knew.  She  herself  dropped  the 
newspaper  in  the  postoffice  box  and  returned  home 
with  a  sense  of  victory.  At  least  she  was  not  the 
only  one  to  be  humiliated,  angered  and  degraded. 

Wyndham  went  back  to  his  hotel,  where  he  dined 
with  his  sister,  and  the  two  went  to  the  play.  After 
bringing  Dot  back  to  the  hotel,  Wyndham  dropped 
in  at  his  club.  Only  then  did  he  miss  his  newspaper. 
He  was  deeply  chagrined  and  even  alarmed  at  its 
loss.  He  made  such  efforts  as  he  could  to  recover  it, 
feeling  the  hopelessness  of  it,  and  sent  early  next 
morning  to  Chester  Street  to  ask  if  he  had  left  the 
newspaper  there.  In  reply,  he  got  a  note  from  Mrs. 
Bellenden,  saying  no  one  in  the  house  had  seen  it.  A 
conviction  instantly  developed  in  Wyndham's  mind 
that  Mrs.  Bellenden  had  the  newspaper.  In  anger, 
he  determined  not  to  go  to  Chester  Street  again. 

Next   morning,   Fermor   received   a   parcel,   with 


DARKNESS    AND    LIGHT  243 

other  letters  and  parcels.  The  first  letter  he  opened 
was  one  in  Theodora's  delicate  but  firm  handwriting. 
In  it,  she  wrote  him  briefly  that  she  found  herself 
impelled  to  unite  with  the  Roman  Catholic  com- 
munion. She  had  her  father's  approval,  but,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  was  with  her  so  entirely  a  ques- 
tion of  the  soul,  that  she  had  not  asked  her  father's 
consent.  She  hoped  she  had  Fermor's  approval.  If 
the  step  she  was  about  to  take  seriously  displeased 
him,  she  would  regret  his  displeasure,  and  give 
him  his  freedom.  But  if  he  did  not  disapprove  of  it, 
and  their  marriage  took  place,  she  would  endeavour 
to  act  so  that  he  would  never  have  cause  to  regret 
his  kind  compliance.  She  was  to  be  received  into  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  the  next  morning  at  Hill- 
borough  by  Father  Redcliffe. 

Fermor  reflected  over  this  letter,  and  smiled  at 
the  ever-available  proposition  to  give  him  up — a 
proposition  a  trifle  more  novel  to  the  heir  of  an  earl- 
dom than,  as  in  Jack  Thornycroft's  case,  to  one 
who  was  only  heir  to  a  baronetcy.  Apparently,  the 
possibility  that  Theodora  might,  by  her  act,  injure 
Fermor's  political  career,  had  not  been  taken  se- 
riously by  her.  Fermor,  however,  knew  perfectly  well 
that  she  had  dealt  him  a  hard  blow,  so  far  as  his 
political  prospects  went.  Nevertheless,  he  wrote  im- 
mediately to  her,  before  opening  his  other  letters,  a 
note  of  graceful  and  tender  acquiescence.  It  was 
more  nearly  a  love  letter  than  he  had  yet  written 
her. 


244    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Then  he  recognised  on  the  parcel  Flora  Bellen- 
den's  hated  handwriting.  He  was  almost  as  cha- 
grined at  getting  the  diamonds  back  as  Mrs.  Bellen- 
den  was  at  giving  them  up.  The  pendant  was  worth 
all  of  the  four  hundred  pounds  he  had  paid  for  it, 
and  for  which  he  had  cramped  himself.  It  was,  of 
course,  out  of  the  question  that  he  should  give  it  to 
Theodora,  and  he  disliked  the  idea  of  selling  it.  At 
last  he  thought  of  Ashburton,  who  gave  liberally  of 
his  own  money  to  charity,  and  could  no  doubt  find 
use  for  more  in  the  same  cause.  Fermor  went  up  to 
London  and  saw  Ashburton  at  his  lodgings,  and 
made  a  clean  breast,  handing,  or  rather  throwing, 
the  ornament  down  on  Ashburton's  table,  saying: 

"  Here,  take  the  damned,  infernal  thing,  and  sell 
it,  and  do  what  you  please  with  the  money." 

Ashburton  smiled  his  quiet  smile. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  the  thing  is  both  damned 
and  infernal.  However,  I  can  give  Barotti's  boy  the 
benefit  of  it  by  sending  him  to  Italy.  The  lad  has 
not  been  strong  since  he  had  scarlet  fever,  and  it 
will  do  him  a  world  of  good.  Besides,  there  are  sev- 
eral other  useful  things  which  can  be  done  with  the 
money — four  hundred  pounds  is  a  considerable  sum 
to  give,  either  to  God  or  the  devil." 

Then  Fermor  mentioned  Theodora's  brief  letter, 
announcing  what  she  had  by  that  time  already  done. 

"  O/  course  you  are  pleased,"  said  Fermor,  smiling 
rather  ruefully. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ashburton,  "  it  is  a  good  thing  for 


DARKNESS   AND  LIGHT  245 

yon  morally,  but  I  am  afraid  a  bad  thing  for  you 
politically.  However,  all  depends  upon  the  relative 
value  you  put  on  morals  and  politics." 

"  I  daresay  you  think  me  a  confounded  hypocrite, 
but  no  Roman  Catholic  has  more  radical  views,  or 
rather  adamantine  prejudices,  than  I  have  on  the 
subject  of  marriage.  I  would  not  marry  any  woman 
who  contemplated  the  possibility  of  divorce.  Madame 
Fontarini's  feelings  on  that  point  are  perfectly  ac- 
ceptable to  me.  So,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  the 
marriage  wfll  take  place  on  the  fifth  of  February,  as 
arranged.  No  announcement  win  be  made  until  the 
middle  of  January,  but  I  have  written  the  date  to 
my  father,  so  he  can,  if  he  wishes,  return  from  the 
Riviera  in  time  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony." 

Fermor  returned  to  Longstaffe,  meditating  in  the 
train  upon  the  exact  amount  of  political  damage 
Theodora's  act  would  do  him.  But  the  thought  of 
that  sweet  twilight  hour  in  Theodora's  sitting-room, 
the  reserved  yet  poignant  passion  of  her  delicate 
caress,  banished  all  regrets,  all  contrary  wishes.  He 
could  even  laugh  silently  in  contemplation  of  Lord 
Castlemaine's  disgust  and  Lady  Susan  Battle's 
alarm  at  the  notion  of  the  future  Lady  Fermor  being 
a  Roman  Catholic. 

As  for  Lord  Castlemaine,  he  was  at  that  moment 
enjoying  Monte  Carlo  as  a  robust  and  intelligent 
pagan  naturally  would.  It  was  bis  intention,  origi- 
nally, to  return  to  England  in  time  for  Lord  For- 
mer's wedding.  But  the  dinners  at  Monte  Carlo 


246     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

had  been  too  good.  Lord  Castlemaine,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  felt  that  he  had  a  pair  of  legs  vulner- 
able to  gout.  With  his  usual  prompt  decision,  he 
left  Monte  Carlo,  and  much  to  the  disgust  of  his 
valet,  went  to  a  little  place  not  far  from  Grenoble, 
where  the  air  was  good,  the  diet  simple,  and  every- 
body went  to  bed  at  ten  o'clock.  He  took  with  him 
an  immense  mass  of  books,  and  amused  himself  with 
the  prospect  of  heckling  his  friends  in  the  Govern- 
ment on  the  Education  Bill,  as  soon  as  he  returned 
to  London.  Being  an  intellectual  debauchee,  he  gave 
himself  over,  in  his  quiet  lodging  in  the  little  hotel, 
to  the  study  of  his  subject,  and  took  deep  drafts  of 
Junius,  of  Macaulay,  of  Corbett,  of  Disraeli,  of  Lord 
John  Russell,  and  of  Lord  Salisbury's  earlier 
speeches.  He  need  not  to  borrow  of  any  of  these 
fierce  parliamentary  fighters,  but  they  always  gave 
him  inspiration  in  pure  invective.  As  an  able  and 
accomplished  scold,  Lord  Castlemaine  was  the  equal 
of  any,  and  the  superior  of  most  of  them.  Hard 
reading,  however,  acted  on  him  very  much  like  hard 
eating  and  drinking,  for  his  gout,  instead  of  grow- 
ing better,  suddenly  rose  and  conquered  him. 

Within  a  week  of  Fermor's  wedding,  Lord  Castle- 
maine's  legs  were  propped  up  on  a  chair,  and  it  looked 
as  if  it  might  be  four  weeks  instead  of  four  days  be- 
fore he  could  start  for  England.  Nevertheless,  he 
ordered  preparations  made  for  his  leaving,  going  by 
way  of  Paris. 

One  morning  exactly  seven  days  before  the  wed- 


DARKNESS    AND    LIGHT  247 

ding  day  of  Lord  Fermor  and  Theodora,  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine  received  among  a  pile  of  letters  and  papers, 
one  addressed  to  him  in  what  was  obviously  a 
feigned  handwriting.  On  it  were  many  postmarks 
and  signs  of  delay,  showing  it  to  have  gone  back  to 
London  and  to  have  returned  to  Monte  Carlo.  It 
was  the  last  to  be  opened,  and  it  contained  a  marked 
newspaper  article.  Lord  Castlemaine's  valet,  who 
was  in  the  room,  heard  a  suppressed  exclamation, 
and  looked  toward  his  master.  Lord  Castlemaine's 
purple  face  had  changed  into  a  yellowish  pallor.  He 
made  a  motion  with  his  hand  indicating  the  valet 
should  withdraw,  which  he  promptly  proceeded  to  do. 
Left  alone,  Lord  Castlemaine  collected  his  faculties 
with  that  amazing  quickness  which  made  him  a  ter- 
ror to  both  his  friends  and  his  enemies.  He  read  the 
newspaper  article — a  long  one — over  half  a  dozen 
times.  Then  he  put  together  many  circumstances, 
some  large  and  some  very  minute,  and  the  conviction 
grew  in  his  mind  that  Seymour  had  behind  him  a 
prison  record.  Lord  Castlemaine  loved  money  as  he 
loved  power  and  good  champagne  and  a  battle  royal 
in  the  House  of  Lords,  but  he  was  not  wholly 
ignoble.  He  respected  the  traditions  of  his  house, 
and  was  rather  proud  of  the  fact  that  all  of  his 
family,  except  himself,  had  lived  upon  a  high  plane 
of  honour. 

Fermor  must  certainly  marry  money,  but  Madame 
Fontarini  was  not  the  only  rich  woman  in  the  world. 
The  wedding  must  be  stopped  at  any  cost  until  Sey- 


248     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

mour's  antecedents  were  investigated.  Lord  Castle- 
maine  was  a  very  firm  believer  in  atavism,  and  the 
thought  that  he  might  have  grandchildren  with  crim- 
inal tendencies  was  painful  and  alarming  to  him. 
On  the  table  at  his  hand  were  telegraph  blanks  and 
a  railway  guide.  He  wrote  out  rapidly  a  telegram 
to  Fermor  and  added,  "  Answer  to  Paris." 

Then  ringing  for  his  man,  he  ordered  the  despatch 
sent  off  at  once,  and  directed  that  a  compartment  be 
engaged  for  him  in  the  train  which  left  for  Paris  that 
evening.  The  French  doctor,  appearing  just  then, 
made  a  vigorous  protest  against  the  move,  but  Lord 
Castlemaine  swept  him  aside. 

That  evening  at  ten,  when  the  night  train  left, 
Lord  Castlemaine  was  in  his  compartment,  cursing 
his  legs,  propped  up  on  the  opposite  seat;  but  they 
had  not  kept  him  from  starting  for  Paris.  So  far 
from  being  worse,  he  was  rather  the  better  for  the 
change,  and  the  feeling  that  he  would  arrive  in  Eng- 
land in  time  to  delay  the  marriage  and,  if  necessary, 
prevent  it,  gave  him  an  increase  of  his  tremendous 
energy. 

At  eleven  o'clock  he  was  trussed  up  with  rugs  and 
pillows  and  fell  into  a  sleep  as  calm  as  a  baby's,  the 
best  sleep  he  had  known  for  a  month.  The  next 
thing  he  knew  was  a  violent  shock,  and  his  valet  was 
thrown  across  the  compartment  and  something  at 
the  same  time  seemed  to  strike  his  head.  Then  every- 
thing was  forgotten. 

When  he  came  to  himself,  he  was  in  a  room  in  a 


DARKNESS    AND    LIGHT  249 

little  hotel  of  a  town  forty  miles  from  Grenoble, 
and  close  to  the  spot  where  the  accident  had  oc- 
curred. 

As  soon  as  he  opened  his  eyes,  he  remembered 
everything.  A  doctor  was  sitting  by  his  bedside — 
the  Grenoble  doctoj*  who  had  been  sent  for. 

"An  accident  happened  to  the  train,  I  presume," 
said  Lord  Castlemaine.  "  I  think  I  have  been  un- 
conscious some  little  time — concussion  of  the  brain,  I 
daresay." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  doctor,  smiling,  "  but  no  other 
injury  whatever." 

"  I  shall  take  the  train  to  Paris  to-morrow  at 
latest,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine,  decisively.  "  I  must 
be  in  England  before  the  fifth  of  February." 

That  was  the  date  fixed  for  Fermor's  wedding. 

"  To-day  is  the  afternoon  of  the  fifth  of  Feb- 
ruary," replied  the  doctor. 

A  savage  light  shone  in  Lord  Castlemaine's  eyes 
and  a  curse  burst  from  his  lips.  He  was  defeated  by 
fate.  The  doctor,  by  way  of  pacifying  him,  picked 
up  an  open  telegram  from  the  table  and  read  it.  It 
ran,  "  Best  wishes  from  Lord  and  Lady  Fermor." 

"  There  was  great  difficulty  in  communicating  with 
Lord  Fermor,"  said  the  doctor  encouragingly ;  "  he 
seems  to  have  had  neither  letters  nor  telegrams  from 
you,  and  thinks  you  are  still  at  Monte  Carlo.  I  got 
into  communication  with  him  only  last  night.  As 
you  had  told  me  your  son  was  to  have  been  married, 
I  was  very  careful  in  what  I  wired  him,  and  it  is 


250     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

fortunate  I  did  so,  because,  I  think  now,  your  recov- 
ery will  be  rapid." 

Lord  Castlemaine  lay  back  on  his  pillow,  grinding 
his  teeth ;  he  hated  defeat. 

On  that  day,  Lord  Fermor  and  Theodora  had 
been  quietly  married  by  Father  White  in  the  draw- 
ing-room at  King's  Lyndon.  The  company  was  as 
small  as  might  be.  There  was  no  best  man,  no 
wedding  cake,  none  of  the  paraphernalia  of  a  grand 
marriage.  The  guests  consisted  of  Ashburton,  Jane 
Battle,  Wyndham  and  the  tall  and  lovely  Dot,  and 
the  Marsacs. 

Lady  Susan  Battle  had  indignantly  refused  to  be 
present  at  what  she  considered  to  be  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  a  Popish  plot,  and  had  no  intention  of 
allowing  any  of  the  Battle  girls  to  attend.  But  Jane, 
with  a  new-found  courage,  announced  that  she  wished 
to  go,  and  Fermor,  on  his  last  visit  to  Lady  Susan 
the  day  before  the  marriage,  boldly  backed  up  Jane, 
and  declared  he  would  call  for  her  that  afternoon, 
and  take  her  down  to  Longstaffe,  with  Ashburton 
and  the  Marsacs,  who  were  to  travel  by  the  same 
train,  and  would  be  his  guests  for  the  night.  Lady 
Susan  protested,  but  she  had  always  felt  herself  un- 
able to  resist  the  prospective  head  of  the  house  of 
Castlemaine.  She  insisted  that  Lord  Castlemaine's 
mysterious  silence  for  three  weeks  past  was  due  to 
his  disapproval  of  the  Romish  and  Popish  elements 
in  the  marriage,  and  would  scarcely  believe  Fermor 
when  he  assured  her  that  Lord  Castlemaine's  silence 


DARKNESS    AND    LIGHT  251 

was  nothing  unusual,  and  he  would,  no  doubt,  send 
a  letter  or  even  a  despatch.  Lady  Susan  was  forced 
to  capitulate  in  the  matter  of  letting  Jane  go  with 
Fermor,  and  the  girl's  bright  face  was  one  of  the 
happiest  at  the  wedding. 

Although  Fermor  made  light  to  Lady  Susan  of 
Lord  Castlemaine's  silence,  it  was,  nevertheless,  dis- 
quieting. True,  a  handsome  gift  of  emeralds  had 
come  for  Theodora,  but  that  was  an  order  given 
a  jeweller  some  time  before  when  Lord  Castlemaine 
was  in  the  first  flush  of  pleasure  over  the  marriage. 
In  spite  of  what  was,  from  the  English  point  of  view, 
the  ignoring  of  Lord  Fermor's  rights,  the  amount 
of  money  was  so  large  and  so  immediately  available, 
that  although  Lord  Castlemaine  thought  Fermor 
might  have  done  better,  he  could  certainly  have  done 
worse. 

On  her  sunny  wedding  day,  Theodora,  for  the  first 
time  since  the  death  of  her  child,  wore  a  gown  that 
was  neither  black  nor  white,  but  a  faint  blue.  She 
looked  extraordinarily  girlish  as  she  entered  the 
room  on  her  father's  arm.  Seymour,  like  most 
American  fathers  on  such  occasions,  showed  signs 
of  weeping;  but  there  was  in  his  manner  a  willing- 
ness and  even  joy  at  what  was  occurring. 

When  the  short  and  simple  ceremony  was  over 
there  was  a  wedding  breakfast,  also  short  and  simple. 
All  the  guests  left  by  the  two  o'clock  train  for  Lon- 
don. 

There  was  no  occasion  for  a  wedding  tour  or  for  a 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

loan  of  a  friend's  house.  About  an  hour  after  the 
departure  of  the  guests  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
took  Seymour  to  the  station.  He  was  off  for  a 
month  in  Scotland. 

"  One  of  the  things,  my  dear,"  he  said  to  Theo- 
dora, "  which  I  have  always  wanted  to  do,  was  to 
explore  Scotland  in  the  winter.  I  couldn't  do  it  on 
your  account,  but  now  that  you  are  off  my  hands,  I 
am  a  free  man." 

"  No  you  are  not,  papa,"  said  Theodora  with  the 
note  of  affectionate  decision  which  she  used  toward 
her  father  and  which  Fermor  had  never  known  in  an 
English  daughter,  "  you  may  stay  in  Scotland  one 
month  exactly,  then  you  are  to  come  back,  and  mean- 
while we  shall  make  Barleywood  ready  for  you. 
Don't  think  you  have  achieved  your  liberty.  I  shall 
see  you  every  day,  and  look  after  you  just  as  I  al- 
ways have  done." 

Then  the  train  came  thundering  in  to  the  little 
station,  and  father  and  daughter  kissed  and  clung 
to  each  other  with  a  depth  of  tenderness  that  Fer- 
mor had  never  seen  before  in  such  a  relation,  and 
with  tears  streaming  down  the  cheeks  of  each. 

Lord  and  Lady  Fermor  walked  back  to  King's 
Lyndon  through  the  gathering  gloom  of  the  Febru- 
ary afternoon.  The  Park  was  bare  and  brown,  and 
so  quiet  that  the  small  wild  creatures  who  dwell  in 
wooded  solitudes  glanced  in  wonder  at  the  two  fig- 
ures strolling  slowly  through  the  dells  and  bypaths. 
They  were  not  boy  and  girl,  but  a  man  and  a  woman 


DARKNESS    AND    LIGHT  253 

who  knew  a  deeper  rapture,  a  loftier  exaltation,  a 
restrained  power  than  first  youth  can  ever  know. 
The  wine  of  life  is  more  effervescing  in  youth,  but  it 
grows  in  strength  and  sweetness.  Fermor  felt,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  a  sense  of  complete  con- 
trolled joy.  Theodora  knew  that  all  that  had  gone 
before  was  the  very  dross  of  love  and  life. 

They  were  so  quiet  and  undemonstrative  that  the 
servants,  who  watched  them  curiously,  concluded  it 
was  the  common  exchange  of  rank  for  money,  and 
that  they  were  too  indifferent  to  each  other  to  quar- 
rel. But  Fermor  and  Theodora  dwelt  in  the  Elysian 
Fields  of  the  soul  that  day. 


THE    CRUCIBLE 

LORD  FERMOR  had  the  common  superstition  of 
bachelors :  that  the  instant  he  was  married  his  wife 
would  endeavour  by  artful  means  to  change  all  of 
his  bachelor  habits,  his  mode  of  life,  his  friends  and 
^everything  belonging  to  and  relating  to  him.  But 
he  was  destined  to  an  agreeable  surprise. 

After  a  honeymoon  of  three  weeks,  he  discovered 
no  effort  on  Theodora's  part  to  change  anything  in 
his  life.  He  loved  King's  Lyndon  so  well  that  noth- 
ing was  easier  or  more  natural  to  him  than  to  fall 
into  the  ways  of  proprietorship.  He  established  him- 
self once  more  in  what  had  been  his  study,  and  after- 
ward Seymour's.  Reyburn  attended  him  faithfully, 
as  when  he  was  a  little  boy  and  afterward  when  he 
returned,  an  Oxonian,  home  for  the  Long  Vacation. 

Every  Englishman  is  supposed  on  some  occasions 
to  utter  the  national  dictum,  "  I  will  be  master  in  my 
own  house." 

Fermor  would  have  found  it  difficult  to  make  occa- 
sion for  saying  this.  Everything  went  according  to 
his  liking,  with  order  and  smoothness,  but  many 
things  were  done  with  quiet  unconsciousness  by  Lady 
Fermor  which  no  English  wife  would  have  thought 
of  doing  without  consulting  her  husband. 

Seymour's    rooms,    announced    Theodora    in    the 

254 


THE    CRUCIBLE  25S 

assured  manner  of  an  American  woman  who  con- 
templates no  opposition,  would  be  kept  intact  for 
her  father  whenever  he  chose  to  visit  King's  Lyndon. 

As  there  were  thirty-two  other  bedrooms  in  the 
King's  Lyndon  house,  it  was  not  likely  that  the 
Fermors  would  be  pressed  for  room,  and  Fermor 
himself  was  secretly  amused  at  the  way  in  which  two 
of  the  most  desirable  rooms  in  his  house  were 
apportioned  without  consulting  him.  The  staff 
of  men  servants,  which  in  an  English  establishment 
would  have  been  absolutely  under  the  discipline  of 
the  master  of  the  house,  had  been  trained  to  report 
to  Theodora.  Even  the  butler,  a  magnificent  per- 
sonage, had  been  made  to  feel  in  the  course  of  his 
year's  service,  that  the  lady  of  the  house  was  a  source 
of  all  authority  and  the  court  of  last  resort.  Fermor 
had  inherited  the  philosophic  temper  of  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine,  and  finding  King's  Lyndon  beautifully 
equipped  and  well  managed,  the  whole  machinery  of 
a  large  establishment  moving  without  the  slightest 
friction,  he  concluded  that  he  was  well  rid  of  many 
cares  meant  to  establish  the  mastery  that  an  English- 
man takes  upon  himself.  Outdoor  matters,  Theo- 
dora laid  upon  Fermor  with  an  apology  for  so  doing. 
This  apology  diverted  Fermor  so  much  that  he 
laughed  aloud,  much  to  Theodora's  amazement. 

**  I  have  had  to  manage  everything  on  the  whole 
place,"  she  said ;  "  papa  never  would  decide  anything 
without  referring  to  me,  and  so  it  became  easier  for 
me  to  manage  directly;  but  it  was  a  great  burden 


256     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

and  I  really  didn't  understand  it  very  well,  and  so  I 
am  only  too  glad  to  be  rid  of  it." 

This  was  one  evening  three  weeks  after  their 
marriage  when  they  were  sitting  as  usual  in  the  little 
yellow  room.  They  were  a  very  matter-of-fact  bride 
and  bridegroom  to  outward  appearances.  Fermor 
was  reading  his  newspaper  and  Theodora  was  cutting 
the  leaves  of  a  new  book.  Fermor,  accustomed  to  the 
fortnightly  box  of  novels  from  Mudie's,  which  con- 
stituted the  reading  of  most  ladies  in  English  coun- 
try houses,  was  curious  to  note  the  kind  of  literature 
in  which  his  new  wife  indulged.  She  was  a  most 
practical  person,  he  discovered,  in  everyday  affairs, 
and  at  the  same  time  was  given  to  much  speculative 
and  imaginative  thought  reading.  While  cutting 
the  leaves  of  her  book,  she  was  giving  him  some  de- 
tails with  regard  to  the  expenditures  in  the  stables. 
Fermor  glanced  at  the  title — it  was  a  volume  of  St. 
George  Mivart.  Fermor's  preconceived  idea  of  a 
woman  who  read  thoughtful  books,  was  a  dowdy  per- 
son who  insisted  on  forcing  her  convictions  on  other 
people.  This  woman,  however,  was  an  extremely 
gentle  and  winning  and  dove-eyed  creature  in  a  deli- 
cious gown  the  colour  of  the  daffodil.  A  man  could 
stand  a  good  deal  of  thoughtful  reading  from  a 
woman  who  looked  and  dressed  as  did  Theodora. 

"  Pretty  heavy  reading?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"Very  interesting,"  replied  Theodora,  smiling 
back,  "  but  not  so  fatiguing  as  a  batch  of  second- 
rate  novels — I  wish  you  would  read  it." 


THE    CRUCIBLE  257 

"  My  dear  Theodora,  I  have  no  taste  for  specula- 
tive philosophy.  I  am  afraid  that  practical  politics 
is  my  role." 

"  It  is  a  very  great  and  powerful  role,"  replied 
Theodora,  still  cutting  the  leaves  of  her  book.  "  I 
find  that  men  in  general  are  divided  into  two  classes 
i — those  who  say  things  and  those  who  do  things. 
Mivart  could  say  things.  I  prefer  a  man  like  you, 
who  can  do  things.  Have  you  heard  from  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine  to-day?" 

"  No,"  replied  Fermor,  "  not  a  line  since  his  letter 
of  a  week  ago,  saying  that  he  would  arrive  in  Eng- 
land the  first  week  in  March.  You  must  not  be 
afraid  of  him ;  he  is  as  helpless  as  other  men  with  a 
charming  woman." 

Theodora  opened  her  dark  eyes  in  calm  amaze- 
ment. 

"  I  am  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  Lord  Castle- 
maine.  I  rather  like  him.  Why  should  anyone  be 
afraid  of  another  person?  I  believe  your  aunt,  Lady 
Susan,  expected  me  to  be  terrified  when  she  refused 
to  come  to  our  wedding.  She  is  an  excellent,  well- 
meaning  woman,  but  perfectly  ridiculous." 

Fermor  laid  down  his  paper  and  laughed  with  quiet 
enjoyment.  His  American  wife  was  always  giving 
him  new  views  of  things  and  innocently  leading  up  to 
them.  He  was  beginning  to  see  in  her  nascent 
gleams  of  that  humour  with  which  God  has  endowed 
every  American.  Then  Theodora  began  to  speak  of 
a  large  party  which  they  were  arranging  for  Easter: 


258     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

week,  which  fell  on  the  last  of  March.  It  was  to  be 
a  political  party,  and  Theodora  was  to  try  her  hand 
for  the  first  time  at  being  a  political  hostess.  Fer- 
mor,  however,  had  no  fear  of  the  outcome,  after 
three  weeks  of  Theodora's  regime. 

"  Papa  doesn't  want  to  be  here  then,"  said  Theo- 
dora, "  but  of  course  I  shan't  allow  him  to  beg  off. 
It  might  look  disrespectful  to  the  world  if  my  father 
should  be  left  out  of  the  first  large  party  we  are  en- 
tertaining, so  I  have  written  him  very  positively 
that  he  must  come." 

This  writing  "  very  positively "  to  a  father  that 
he  must  do  thus  and  so,  was  still  novel  to  Fermor, 
and  he  laughed  again,  to  Theodora's  surprise,  who 
had  no  suspicion  of  anything  humorous  in  her  state- 
ment. 

"  It  will  all  be  very  fine,"  said  Fermor.  "  I  like  the 
idea  of  once  more  receiving  public  men  as  my  grand- 
father did  when  he  was  Secretary  of  State  for  War. 
But  after  all,  I  shall  be  glad  when  we  can  resume  our 
quiet  evenings  alone  together." 

A  deep  blush  appeared  in  Theodora's  pale,  pretty 
cheeks. 

Fermor,  like  a  lover,  took  her  hand  and  asked  her 
if  she,  too,  would  not  be  glad  when  they  could  once 
more  be  alone  together.  Theodora  said  no  word, 
but  she  raised  her  dark  eyes  to  Fermor's  with  a  con- 
fession in  them  which  he  readily  understood. 

At  that  moment,  each  felt  almost  too  happy.  The 
old  superstition  that  when  one  reaches  the  ultimate 


THE    CRUCIBLE  259 

heights  of  love  and  joy,  Fate  must  be  propitiated, 
occurred  to  Fermor.  He  had  from  the  beginning 
found  himself  more  and  more  inclined  to  this  mar- 
riage which  seemed  to  be  one  of  interest ;  when  it  was 
accomplished,  it  dawned  upon  him  that  he  had 
reached  a  singular  degree  both  of  good  fortune  and 
happiness.  He  had  achieved  his  ambition,  a  seat  in 
Parliament,  and  had  acquired  King's  Lyndon,  to 
which  his  heart  had  ever  been  bound.  He  was  mar- 
ried to  a  wife  who  commanded  his  admiration  and  his 
interest,  and  now — the  greatest  good  of  all  had  be- 
fallen him — he  knew  they  loved  each  other. 

"  Let  us  walk  on  the  terrace,"  said  Fermor ;  "  it  is 
not  cold." 

**  And  the  moon  shines,"  answered  Theodora  softly. 

For  an  hour  they  strolled  up  and  down  slowly, 
watching  the  moon  shimmering  on  the  lake,  and  lis- 
tening to  those  faint  sounds  of  night  that  make  the 
silence  more  silent.  They  spoke  little ;  they  were  op- 
pressed with  the  sense  of  their  happiness. 

"  We  are  not  very  young,  remember,"  said  Theo- 
dora,  as  if  chiding  herself  for  their  hour  of  rap- 
ture. 

"  No,  thank  Godl,"  replied  Fermor,  '"  we  know 
something.  We  cannot  be  deceived  any  more." 

That  evening  walk  on  the  terrace  marked  an  epoch. 
It  was  the  full  revelation  of  their  souls  to  each 
other. 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  one  of  the  few  philosophers 
who  could  live  philosophically.  The  news  of  Fer- 


260    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

mor's  marriage  on  the  heels  of  the  newspaper  story, 
and  what  it  suggested,  gave  him  a  shock,  but  he 
rallied  from  it  quickly.  After  all,  Theodora  her- 
self was  unexceptionable.  The  money  was  undoubt- 
edly secure,  and  the  one  thing  was  to  repudiate  Sey- 
mour and  hush  the  matter  up  as  far  as  possible.  The 
point  that  troubled  Lord  Castlemaine  most,  the 
thought  of  his  future  grandchildren  inheriting  a 
strain  of  convict  blood,  was  still  in  the  air.  There 
might  not  be  children  or  they  might  not  resemble 
Seymour.  The  control  of  the  will  is  the  great  factor 
in  human  affairs,  and  Lord  Castlemaine  set  about 
making  the  most  of  the  advantages  and  the  least  of 
the  disadvantages  of  his  son's  marriage.  He  knew 
about  the  large  party,  including  the  Prime  Minister, 
who  was  to  spend  Easter  week  at  King's  Lyndon,  but 
gave  himself  no  uneasiness  with  regard  to  Theodora's 
bearing.  Being  an  excellent  judge  of  women,  Lord 
Castlemaine  felt  that  his  daughter-in-law  was  su- 
perior to  most  women  in  this  respect.  One  thing, 
however,  was  certain — Seymour  must  be  made  to  keep 
away  from  King's  Lyndon. 

These  ideas  occupied  Lord  Castlemaine  dur- 
ing his  convalescence,  which  was  rapid.  In  the  third 
week  in  March  he  was  quite  well  enough  to  travel, 
his  gout  subdued,  and  he  felt  himself  ten  years 
younger  for  his  winter  at  Monte  Carlo.  The  iden- 
tity of  the  person  who  had  sent  him  the  newspaper 
was  quite  unknown  to  Lord  Castlemaine,  until  he  was 
in  the  act  of  putting  it  in  his  despatch  box,  and 


THE    CRUCIBLE  261 

then  his  eye  caught  a  memorandum  scrawled  on  the 
inner  page,  in  a  handwriting  distinctly  un-Eng- 
lish. It  was  «  Send  this  to  "  A.  N.  W."  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine's  mind  instantly  flew  to  Wyndham,  the 
American  journalist,  and  he  recalled  Wyndham's 
card,  "  Mr.  Arthur  Nesbit  Wyndham."  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine  was  so  convinced  that  he  had  found  his  man, 
that  the  day  he  started  for  England  he  sent  a  tele- 
gram to  Wyndham,  asking  him  to  call  on  an  evening 
three  days  hence,  at  Castlemaine  House. 

He  made  the  journey  by  way  of  Paris,  and  ar- 
rived in  fine  fettle  at  Castlemaine  House.  Lady  Susan 
Battle,  who  loved  as  well  as  feared  her  brother,  in- 
vaded the  house  on  the  evening  of  Lord  Castlemaine's 
arrival,  as  soon  as  dinner  was  over,  and  he  was  smok- 
ing his  forbidden  cigar  and  enjoying  his  unauthor- 
ised coffee  before  the  library  fire.  Lady  Susan  began 
to  pour  out  her  own  troubles,  chief  of  which  was  the 
incipient  affair  between  Jane  Battle  and  Wynd- 
ham, and  Jane's  silent  but  open  rebellion. 

"  What  are  you  worrying  for  ?  "  asked  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine ;  "  the  fellow  is  decent  enough  and  has  some 
money,  and  the  girl  likes  him." 

"  Jane  is  my  step-daughter  and  I  am  the  daughter 
of  the  seventh  Earl  of  Castlemaine,"  replied  Lady 
Susan  as  if  conveying  that  information  for  the  first 
time,  "  and  no  girl  in  her  set  has  married  an  Amer- 
ican, so  why  should  my  husband's  daughter  so  de- 
grade herself?  " 

*'  I  can  tell  you  why  110  girl  in  Jane's  set  has  mar- 


262     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ried  an  American,"  answered  Lord  Castlemaine  with 
his  most  provoking  good  humour — "  none  of  them 
has  been  asked.  American  men  don't  want  to  marry 
our  girls,  that  is  plain  enough.  It  is  just  as  easy 
to  get  a  few  millions  into  a  family  by  means  of  a 
complaisant  American  husband,  as  through  a  spoiled 
and  overbearing  American  girl — for  that  is  what  they 
all  are.  For  my  part,  I  believe  that  my  daughter-in- 
law  has  dragooned  Fermor  from  the  beginning — not 
openly  and  violently,  of  course^  but  '  in  pretty 
Fanny's  way ! ' : 

"  True,"  replied  Lady  Susan  tartly.  "  In  every- 
thing concerning  the  engagement  and  marriage,  Fer- 
mor yielded  with  the  most  abominable  weakness.  I 
understand  she  herself  pays  the  men  servants'  wages. 
As  for  the  marriage  ceremony  being  performed  by 
a  Romish  priest,  I  was  simply  shocked.  Fermor 
should  never  have  consented  to  that.  I  should  not 
be  surprised  if  Lady  Fermor  should  actually  drag 
Fermor  off  to  the  Roman  Catholic  church  on  Sun- 
days, instead  of  worshipping,  as  he  should,  in  the 
family  pew  in  his  own  parish  church." 

"  I  wish  to  God  she  would,"  replied  Lord  Castle- 
maine, as  usual  in  opposition.  "  It  would  pay  off 
some  old  scores  I  owe  the  Bishop.  I  objected  very 
much  to  the  vicar  at  King's  Lyndon,  and  his  med- 
dling with  the  tenants,  and  listening  to  their  griev- 
ances, and  I  asked  the  Bishop  to  give  him  a  wigging. 
Instead  of  that,  the  Bishop  had  him  for  a  week-end 
at  the  Palace,  and  I  believe,  between  them.,  they 


THE    CRUCIBLE  S63 

concocted  a  scheme  against  me  and  in  favour  of  the 
tenants." 

Lady  Susan  was  used  to  this  sort  of  thing  and  did 
not  take  it  wholly  at  its  face  value.  Nevertheless, 
it  was  very  annoying.  In  the  midst  of  their  talk,  a 
card  was  brought  to  Lord  Castlemaine  and  he  di- 
rected that  the  gentleman  be  shown  in.  The  gentle- 
man proved  to  be  Wyndham,  which  sent  a  thrill  of 
indignation  down  Lady  Susan's  backbone. 

Wyndham,  however,  met  Lady  Susan  with  affec- 
tionate effusion.  In  vain,  Lady  Susan  assumed  what 
Lord  Castlemaine  called  her  Queen  Boadicea  air,  and 
drew  about  her  large  and  stately  figure  the  folds  of 
her  crimson  velvet  gown,  which  had  done  duty  for 
ten  seasons,  and  showed  it.  Wyndham  only  moved 
his  chair  the  closer  and  inquired  pointedly  after  Miss 
Battle. 

"  My  daughter  is  quite  well,"  responded  Lady 
Susan  freezingly. 

"It  is  hardly  worth  while  to  ask  how  you  are, 
Lady  Susan,"  said  Wyndham  with  an  admiring  grin. 
"  You  are,  I  may  say,  a  perfect  picture  of  health  and 
beauty,  and  what  I  should  call,  a  Hebe  in  middle  life." 

Lady  Susan  turned  a  stony  glance  on  Wyndham, 
and  Lord  Castlemaine,  with  an  answering  grin,  re- 
plied thus,  for  her: 

"  I  am  sure,"  he  said,  "  Lady  Susan  appreciates 
these  compliments,  and  your  admiration  for  Jane  is 
well  founded.  She  is  really  an  attractive  girl,  when 
she  can  escape  from  that  self-consciousness  which  is 


THE    MARRIAGE   OF    THEODORA 

the  drawback  of  English  girls.  It  is  the  fault  of 
the  mothers  though — not  of  the  unfortunate  daugh- 
ters themselves.  Susan,  you  should  educate  yourself 
to  look  with  feigned  indifference  upon  a  man  who 
approaches  your  step-daughter,  even  if  he  be  mar- 
riageable." 

"  I  think,"  said  Lady  Susan,  rising  majestically, 
"  I  must  say  good  evening.  Mr.  Battle  is  at  home 
this  evening,  and  I  don't  wish  to  leave  him  alone." 

Wyndham  opened  the  library  door  for  her  and 
shook  hands  with  her  warmly,  asking  to  be  remem- 
bered to  the  young  ladies,  and  especially  to  Miss 
Battle. 


CHAPTER    XXI 
THE  RECKONING  DAY 

WHEN  the  door  was  shut  and  Wyndham  returned  to 
Lord  Castlemaine,  he  took  up  a  cigar  while  waiting 
Lord  Castlemaine's  communication.  The  room  was 
large,  lofty,  dark  and  magnificent.  The  sparkling 
fire  and  the  glowing  lamp  cast  high  lights  upon  Lord 
Castlemaine's  strong,  high-coloured  face  and  large 
figure.  He  was  the  battered  wreck  of  manly  beauty, 
just  as  his  mind  was  a  type  of  useless  and  perverted 
talent.  Wyndham,  with  his  keen  and  practical 
American  mind,  grasped  this  and  thought  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine one  of  the  most  interesting  men  he  had  ever 
met.  As  for  Lord  Castlemaine's  relations  with  the 
rest  of  mankind,  this  man  of  great  birth,  gifts 
and  fortune  had  lived  in  vain.  For  himself,  how- 
ever, he  had  done  generous  things.  Wyndham 
thought  he  had  never  known  a  man  who  saw  men  and 
who  looked  at  life  in  a  clearer  light  than  this  pagan 
person.  But,  on  the  whole,  Lord  Castlemaine  reck- 
oned that  but  one  fate  remained  for  all  who  opposed 
him,  and  that  was  destruction. 

After  a  minute,  Lord  Castlemaine  asked : 
"  Do  you  intend  to  marry  the  Battle  girl  ?  " 
Wyndham's  face  flushed  a  little;  he  was  not  ac- 

265 


266     THE    MARRIAGE    OFi  THEODORA 

customed  to  hear  such  things,  put  in  such  a  form. 
Like  the  normal  American,  he  was  as  sentimental  as 
he  was  practical. 

"  I  hardly  think  that  is  the  way  to  put  it,"  he  said. 
"  Would  Miss  Battle  do  me  the  honour  of  marrying 
me?" 

"  Oh,  Lord !  Lady  Susan  tells  me  the  girl  is  dying 
in  love  with  you." 

The  flush  deepened  on  Wyndham's  clear-cut,  clean- 
shaven face. 

"  I  don't  consider  any  one  can  be  justified  in  say- 
ing that.  It  is  a  good  deal,  however,  to  ask  a  girl 
in  Miss  Battle's  position  to  give  up  her  family  and 
her  country  and  to  come  to  America  with  me.  I  have 
a  very  good  fortune,  but  there  is  something  else  in 
this  world  besides  money." 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  surprised  to  hear  this  sen- 
timent from  an  American. 

"  The  girl  won't  mind  that,"  he  replied,  puffing 
away  at  his  cigar.  "  If  there  is  one  thing  that  an 
Englishman  or  an  Englishwoman  minds  less  than 
another  it  is  leaving  England.  That  is  why  we  are 
the  greatest  colonisers  on  earth.  By  the  way — I  be- 
lieve you  were  present  at  Lord  Fermor's  wedding." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Wyndham ;  "  it  was  one  of  the 
few  cheerful  weddings  I  ever  saw.  Generally  the 
small  wedding  at  home  is  about  as  gay  as  sitting  up> 
with  a  corpse." 

"  It  began  as  an  arrangement,"  said  Lord  Castle- 
maine, "  but  I  think  I  saw  indications  that  some- 


THE  RECKONING    DAY  267 

thing  stronger,  if  not  wiser,  was  developing  between 
Lord  Fermor  and  Madame  Fontarini." 

"  I  think  I  saw  the  same  thing.  Madame  Fonta- 
rini has  had  a  terrible  experience  in  life.  I  fancy  she 
was  afraid  of  men  and  would  never  have  made  a 
second  marriage  but  for  her  father." 

"Ah,  yes." 

"  Then  when  Fermor  appeared,  I  am  inclined  to  be- 
lieve her  inclination  seconded  her  father's  wishes." 

"American  fathers,  I  understand,  are  not  very 
keen  for  their  daughters  to  marry,"  said  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine,  looking  full  into  Wyndham's  eyes ;  "  but 
perhaps  there  was  a  reason  in  Seymour's  case." 

Lord  Castlemaine  opened  the  drawer  of  the  library 
table,  unlocked  his  portfolio  and  handed  Wyndham 
the  newspaper  which  he  had  left  in  Mrs.  Bellenden's 
house.  One  look  at  Wyndham's  expressive  face  con- 
vinced Lord  Castlemaine  that  he  and  Wyndham  har- 
boured the  same  suspicions  concerning  Seymour. 

"  It  is  a  very  terrible  and  very  painful  affair," 
said  Lord  Castlemaine,  quietly  assuming  that  he  and 
Wyndham  thought  alike.  "  The  only  thing  is  to 
try  if  possible  to  keep  it  quiet  and  break  up  all  as- 
sociations between  Lady  Fermor  and  her  father." 

"  It  might  be  easy  enough  to  keep  it  quiet,"  re- 
plied Wyndham  after  a  pause ;  "  it  all  began  twenty- 
three  years  ago,  and  nobody  is  particularly  inter- 
ested in  bringing  a  man  back  to  serve  his  term  after 
that  length  of  time.  However,  if  the  authorities 
wanted  him,  they  could  very  easily  have  him  ex- 


268     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

tradited;  but  as  for  breaking  up  all  association  be- 
tween Lady  Fermor  and  her  father — that  I  consider 
quite  impossible." 

A  look  came  into  Lord  Castlemaine's  eyes  which 
Wyndham  thought  no  woman  would  like  to  face.  But 
Wyndham  himself  was  troubled;  he  rose  and  stood 
before  Lord  Castlemaine's  chair. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,"  he  said,  "  how  much  this  thing 
has  distressed  me.  I  grew  up  in  this  little  town  and 
the  story  was  familiar  to  me  as  a  boy,  and  I  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  solving  the  mystery.  Then  two 
years  ago,  when  reports  drifted  back  to  us  that  this 
man  still  lived  and  had  made  a  great  fortune,  I  took 
a  sort  of  academic  interest  in  it  and  made  up  my  mind 
to  trace  the  story." 

"  You  have  traced  it  only  too  well,"  said  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine  with  a  short  laugh. 

"  So  I  fear.  Mr.  Seymour  himself  is  as  far  re- 
moved from  the  type  I  imagined  as  any  man  could 
be.  I  admire  his  generosity,  his  Christian  socialism, 
his  simplicity,  his  devotion  to  his  daughter.  I  have 
accepted  his  hospitality  and  now,  all  at  once,  I  am 
confronted  with  evidences  which  are  very  painful.  At 
least  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  that  newspaper  story, 
and  it  embodies  a  great  deal  more  than  I  ever  knew." 

"  I  wonder  what  considerate  friend  sent  it  to  me," 
said  Lord  Castlemaine,  putting  the  newspaper  back 
in  the  portifolio  and  locking  it  and  the  drawer,  too. 

Wyndham  thought  a  moment  or  two. 

"I  remember  mislaying  an  American  newspaper 


THE   RECKONING   DAY  269 

some  weeks  ago,  leaving  it  in  Mrs.  Bellenden's  house, 
in  Chester  Street.  This  looks  like  the  newspaper,  al- 
though I  had  not  opened  it." 

"  And  it  was  no  doubt  sent  me  by  Mrs.  Bellenden 
— confound  her ! "  answered  Lord  Castlemaine. 

Wyndham  sat  down  again  on  the  other  side  of  the 
table,  looking  very  unhappy,  and  leaned  his  head 
upon  his  hands. 

"  Some  women  are  devils,"  he  said.  "  It  was  Mrs. 
Bellenden  who  put  the  first  idea  in  my  mind  that  Sey- 
mour was  the  man  I  was  trying  to  place." 

"After  all,"  continued  Lord  Castlemaine,  taking 
up  his  habitual  mode  of  reasoning,  "  the  whole  thing 
is  done,  and  we  must  make  the  best  of  it.  Do  you 
know  where  Seymour  is  just  now?  " 

"  He  went  to  Scotland  for  a  month  after  the 
wedding,  and  is  due  in  London  about  this  time.  I 
can  only  say  this,  that  in  any  effort  to  keep  this 
quiet,  you  may  count  upon  me,  out  of  sincere  regard 
for  Mr.  Seymour  and  Lady  Fermor." 

Presently  Wyndham  got  up  and  went  away.  Lord 
Castlemaine  walked  across  the  great  room,  pulled 
aside  the  heavy  draperies  of  the  window,  and  looked 
out  upon  the  wide  street  and  the  darkness  punctured 
at  points  by  the  gas  lamps.  He  glanced  toward  the 
next  house  and,  to  his  surprise,  saw  lights  in  the 
drawing-room  windows.  A  touch  of  the  bell  brought 
a  footman. 

"Go  to  the  next  house,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine, 
"  and  inquire  if  Mr.  Seymour  is  at  home,  and  if  so, 


270     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

make  Lord  Castlemaine's  compliments  and  he  would 
be  very  much  obliged  if  Mr.  Seymour  could  see  Lord 
Castlemaine  here  for  a  few  minutes  this  evening." 

The  footman  went  out  and  Lord  Castlemaine  re- 
turned to  his  seat  by  the  fire.  It  would  be  extremely 
fortunate  if  Seymour  were  at  home.  In  five  minutes 
the  footman  returned,  saying  Mr.  Seymour  was  at 
home  and  would  have  the  pleasure  of  coming  to  see 
Lord  Castlemaine. 

In  five  minutes  more,  Seymour  entered  the  room. 
He  greeted  Lord  Castlemaine  with  his  usual  simple 
cordiality  and  took  the  chair  lately  vacated  by 
Wyndham.  Lord  Castlemaine  was  more  than  cour- 
teous. Something  of  noblesse  oblige  remained  in 
him — he  was  about  to  deal  this  man  a  mortal  blow, 
barbed  with  certainty.  Meanwhile,  he  would  treat 
Seymour  strictly  as  a  gentleman. 

"  You  had  a  pretty  bad  accident,  I  understand," 
said  Seymour,  leaning  forward,  the  light  from  the 
lamp  falling  upon  the  grey  hair  and  moustache  and 
his  eyes  with  their  singular  expression  of  pathos  and 
trust. 

"  Not  so  very  bad,"  replied  Lord  Castlemaine, 
"  but  it  kept  me  quiet  for  a  whole  month  and  cured 
my  gout." 

"  You  know,  of  course,  that  Lord  Fermor  did  not 
receive  the  telegram  about  the  accident  and  sup- 
posed you  were  in  Paris  until  the  day  before  the 
wedding  came  off.  I  wish  you  could  have  been  pres- 
ent." 


THE    RECKONING   DAY  271 

"  It  was  my  intention  to  be  there,  but  I  did  not 
permanently  recover  consciousness  until  some  hours 
after  the  ceremony  had  been  performed,"  replied 
Lord  Castlemaine. 

"  It  was  really  a  most  interesting  occasion,"  said 
Seymour,  with  a  sort  of  simple  enthusiasm.  "  You 
will  pardon  a  father's  pride  when  I  tell  you  that  my 
daughter  never  appeared  to  greater  advantage  than 
on  that  day,  and  I  never  felt  more  deeply  assured  of 
her  affection  than  when  I  parted  from  her  that  af- 
ternoon. You  know,  perhaps,  that  I  have  leased  a 
small  place — Barleywood — close  to  King's  Lyn- 
don, and  my  daughter  and  Lord  Fermor  have  been 
preparing  it  for  me.  My  daughter  writes  me  that 
Lord  Fermor  has  been  most  sympathetic  and  has 
shown  the  greatest  interest  in  arranging  for  my  com- 
fort. It  is  very  gratifying." 

"  Barleywood  is  an  insignificant  place,  but  com- 
fortable enough,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine  quietly. 

"  So,"  replied  Seymour,  "  now  that  my  daughter 
is  once  more  happy,  I  should  lead  a  life  of  quietness 
and  even  obscurity.  It  was  natural  that  I  should 
wish  to  give  my  daughter  all  the  advantages  of  for- 
tune, and  I  may  say,  I  did  it.  But  now  I  am  grow- 
ing an  old  man,  I  am  very  simple  in  my  tastes,  and  to 
live  quietly  and  see  my  daughter  once  a  day,  is 
enough  for  me  in  this  life." 

"  I  believe,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine  slowly,  "  that 
you  are  capable  of  any  sacrifices  for  your  daughter." 

"I  hope  so,"  answered  Seymour. 


272     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  Then,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine,  "  it  might  be 
well  for  you  to  have  no  further  association  with 
Lady  Fermor." 

Seymour  shrank  back  in  his  chair  and  the  placid 
expression  of  his  eyes  changed  instantly  to  one  of 
anxiety  and  terror.  Lord  Castlemaine  once  more  un- 
locked the  drawer  and  the  portfolio  and  took  from  it 
the  newspaper  and  laid  it  before  Seymour,  who  raised 
it  up  with  trembling  hands  and  began  to  read  the 
marked  column.  When  he  laid  it  down  on  the  table 
again,  he  had  recovered  his  composure. 

"  It's  every  word  true,"  he  said  calmly.  "  I  have 
been  looking  for  this  for  twenty  years  past." 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  expected  some  outbreak 
of  emotion,  a  shuddering  and  sobbing,  a  vain  plead- 
ing and  protesting  when  the  shock  of  revelation  came. 
Nothing  of  the  sort  occurred.  The  old  man — for 
Seymour  always  appeared  to  be  an  old  and  shattered 
man — sat  quiet  as  death. 

"  Then,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine,  "  you  see  the 
propriety  of  what  I  said  just  now  with  regard  to 
Lady  Fermor." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Seymour  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  see  it 
as  well  as  you  do." 

Seymour's  look  and  words  touched  even  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine's  hard  heart,  and  he  said  with  some  trace 
of  feeling: 

"  Of  course  we  must  keep  everything  as  far  as 
possible  from  Lady  Fermor." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  will  be  impossible,"  replied  Sey- 


THE    RECKONING   DAY  273 

mour  quietly.  "  I  think  you  hardly  understand  the 
devoted  intimacy  in  which  my  daughter  and  I  have 
lived  since  she  was  ten  years  old.  She  is  much 
cleverer  than  I,  and  I  could  never  conceal  anything 
from  her  except  this,"  he  said,  laying  his  finger  on 
the  newspaper.  "  She  had  great  faith  in  me,  and 
when  I  have  sometimes  told  her  that  I  had  something 
in  my  life  to  expiate,  she  always  said  it  was  a  trifle 
— something  no  other  man  would  bother  about." 

"  It  is  very  difficult  for  a  man  to  deceive  a  woman, 
though  men  deceive  themselves  readily  enough,"  re- 
plied Lord  Castlemaine ;  "  but  Lady  Fermor  must, 
of  course,  see  the  necessity  of  holding  no  further  in- 
tercourse with  you." 

Seymour  remained  silent  for  a  few  minutes. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  repeated  presently,  "  yon  don't 
fully  understand  my  daughter.  I  don't  think  she 
will  agree  to  give  me  up." 

"  She  must !  "  shouted  Lord  Castlemaine,  bringing 
his  fist  down  suddenly  on  the  table. 

Until  then  their  voices  had  not  risen  above  the 
ordinary  pitch. 

"  In  any  event,"  continued  Lord  Castlemaine  sav- 
agely, "  you  can  take  yourself  off  and  keep  out  of 
the  way." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  replied  Seymour  humbly, 
"  but  I  tell  you  in  advance,  my  daughter  has  great 
tenacity  of  purpose  and  the  command  of  a  great  deal 
of  money.  I  think  she  would  make  every  effort  to 
find  me." 


274     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Lord  Castlemaine  ground  his  teeth  and  at  that 
moment  would  have  endorsed  everything  Lady  Susan 
Battle  had  ever  said  against  Americans.  The  idea 
that  this  woman,  only  the  other  day  married  into  a 
great  family,  should  go  contrary  to  the  traditions  of 
an  historic  house  and  set  up  her  will  in  opposition, 
was  infuriating  to  him.  Still,  his  rage  did  not  rob 
him  of  his  wits,  and  in  a  little  while  he  resumed : 

"  Since  you  are  willing  to  go  away  we  can  now 
arrange  it." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Seymour,  "  but  I  should  like  once 
more  to  see  my  daughter." 

"  That  is  out  of  the  question  if  you  are  acting 
in  good  faith  and  really  mean  to  go  away.  You 
would  be  certain  to  betray  something — Lady  Fer- 
mor  would  be  alarmed  and  then  the  game  would  be 
up." 

Seymour  said  nothing,  but  shrank  back  again  into 
his  chair,  took  out  his  handkerchief  and  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine saw  that  he  was  weeping  silently. 

"  Now,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine,  "  I  have  met  with 
great  varieties  of  men  in  my  life,  but  no  one  quite 
of  your  character  and  history.  Tell  me  what  really 
happened,  apart  from  the  lurid  writing  in  this  news- 
paper story." 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  happened  any  more  than 
you  do,"  replied  Seymour  tremulously.  "I  owed 
this  man  some  money — a  small  amount,  but  a  great 
deal  to  me  at  the  time.  I  went  to  see  him  in  his  of- 
fice in  this  little  town  in  the  East,  and  we  had  some 


THE    RECKONING   DAY  275 

words.  He  was  a  man  of  violent  temper,  though  not 
bad-hearted,  and  struck  at  me,  and  I  struck  him  back. 
It  was  not  much  of  a  blow — I  never  had  a  strong 
physique,  but  he  fell  over  dead  on  the  floor.  Some 
crazy  devil  entered  my  mind  and  I  thought  I  would 
run  away;  but  I  had  no  money.  I  felt  in  his  pock- 
ets and  took  out  his  wallet  and  ran  to  the  little 
railway  station.  When  I  opened  the  wallet  to  pay 
for  my  ticket  to  New  York,  I  found  a  great  roll  of 
bills.  A  debtor  had  just  come  in  and  paid  him  in 
cash  something  like  a  thousand  dollars.  I  got  on 
the  train  and  reached  New  York  that  night;  I  went 
to  a  lodging-house  and  tumbled  into  bed  and  slept 
all  night  as  if  I  had  been  drugged.  Next  morning 
I  woke  up,  sane  as  ever  in  my  life.  I  took  the  first 
train  back  to  the  place — surrendered  myself  and  gave 
up  the  money  less  the  little  it  cost  me  to  go  and  re- 
turn from  New  York.  The  man  had  been  found 
dead  in  his  office,  but  there  was  a  question  as  to 
whether  the  blow  had  killed  him  or  whether  he  had 
died  from  an  embolism  from  which  he  had  long  suf- 
fered. The  loss  of  the  money,  though,  was  known 
immediately.  I  was  tried  at  the  next  term  of  the 
court,  pleaded  guilty  to  involuntary  manslaughter, 
and  was  sentenced  to  two  years'  imprisonment.  I 
was  made  the  warden's  *  trusty.'  Do  you  know  what 
that  is?" 

"  Something  like  a  ticket-of-leave-man,"  said  Lord 
Castlemaine. 

"  Yes.     I  was  employed  in  the  warden's  office  and 


276     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

allowed  outside  the  prison  limits  and  to  wear  plain 
clothes.  I  had  some  friends  who  were  very  active  in 
trying  to  get  me  a  pardon  from  the  Governor.  One 
day,  just  three  months  before  my  time  was  up,  I 
drove  into  town  in  the  warden's  trap  and  went  to  the 
postoffice.  In  the  mail  was  a  letter  for  me  saying 
that  Theodora,  then  a  little  girl  not  ten  years  old, 
was  ill  and  the  woman  who  attended  her  had  deserted 
her.  I  had  some  money  of  my  own  on  deposit  in  the 
warden's  hands.  I  sent  the  warden's  mail  and  the 
trap  back  by  a  boy  and  took  a  train  to  the  place 
where  the  child  lay  ill,  three  hundred  miles  away.  I 
did  it  deliberately  and  I  would  do  the  same  thing 
again.  The  day  after  I  left,  a  pardon  arrived  from 
the  Governor,  but  it  could  not  apply,  of  course.  A 
breach  of  faith  on  the  part  of  a  '  trusty '  is  very 
severely  punished.  I  carried  the  child  when  she  re- 
covered as  far  West  as  my  money  would  take  me.  I 
found  a  cheap  school  for  her,  and  went  myself  to 
the  mining  regions. 

"  People  in  Europe  have  thought  me  a  great  finan- 
cier. I  never  was  anything  of  the  kind.  I  grew 
rich  by  a  miracle.  It  is  always  the  greenhorns  who 
make  the  rich  finds.  I  staked  off  the  claim  that 
turned  out  to  be  the  richest  ore-bearing  section  that 
was  ever  known  in  America.  All  the  other  miners 
stopped  digging  when  they  got  down  a  hundred  and 
fifty  feet.  As  I  knew  nothing  about  mining,  I  kept 
on,  and  a  week  after  the  whole  camp  was  deserted  I 
struck  a  great  belt  of  ore.  It  formed  a  curious  sue- 


THE    RECKONING   DAY  277 

cession  of  loops,  all  in  my  own  claim.  The  whole  re- 
gion was  rich.  There  was  a  concentration  of  wealth 
in  my  claim  that  was  unprecedented.  The  more  gold 
was  dug  out,  the  more  there  seemed  to  be  in  sight. 
I  made  a  clear  profit  of  three  million  dollars  and  I 
invested  in  safe  interest-bearing  securities  and  let 
the  income  accumulate.  I  brought  Theodora  to  Eu- 
rope when  she  was  ten  years  old,  because  I  dared 
not  stay  in  America.  One  of  the  worst  phases  of  my 
punishment  has  been  this  living  out  of  my  own  coun- 
try. I  have  no  friends  here — I  can't  make  any.  I 
am  an  American  and  I  don't  understand  Europeans, 
few  of  us  ever  do.  I  dared  not  make  friends  with 
the  few  Americans  I  met,  and  my  life  was  given  over 
to  my  daughter.  I  am  not  a  man  of  the  world,  as 
you  know,  and  when  Pietro  Fontarini  pretended  to 
fall  in  love  with  my  daughter  when  she  was  eight- 
een, and  I  thought  she  was  in  love  with  him,  I  was 
eager  for  the  marriage,  for  I  thought  that  this  blow 
might  come  at  any  moment  and  I  wanted  her  to 
have  a  protector.  Fontarini,  however,  was  no  pro- 
tector for  any  woman — God  eternally  damn  him ! " 
There  was  no  lack  of  excitement  now  in  Seymour's 
voice  or  face.  He  almost  shouted  the  words. 

The  remembrance  of  Theodora's  injuries  seemed 
to  sting  the  old  man  into  quivering  anger,  as  he  used 
the  words  that  sounded  strange  from  his  lips. 

"  Yes,  Fontarini  was  a  damned  scoundrel,"  said 
Lord  Castlemaine. 

"  My  daughter  never  told  me  half  her  sufferings. 


278    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

When  Fontarini  was  gone,  I  knew  that  my  daughter, 
with  her  grace  and  charm  and  the  fortune  I  could 
give  her,  would  have  many  opportunities  to  marry, 
and  Lord  Fermor  seemed  to  me  the  right  person.  I 
became  convinced  that  it  was  far  more  a  love 
match  than  either  one  of  them  realised.  Now,  if 
my  daughter  can  be  kept  from  shame,  that  is  all  I 
ask.  I  understand  perfectly  well  your  stake  in  the 
matter  and  would  be  glad  of  your  advice." 

This  was  considerably  more  reasonable  than  Lord 
Castlemaine  had  expected.  He  had  looked  for  plead- 
ings and  obstinate  resistance  from  Seymour  and  had 
found,  on  the  contrary,  what  had  seemed  to  him  a 
perfectly  rational  submission. 

"  I  have  talked  with  Wyndham,  the  American 
journalist,  who  is  a  friend  of  yours  and  of  Lady 
Fermor's,  I  believe." 

"  Yes,  Wyndham  was  one  of  the  few  Americans  I 
ever  dared  to  cultivate." 

"  And  he  had  heard  the  story  and  was  making 
quiet  inquiries  in  Europe  to  find  this  lost  '  trusty.' 
It  was  not  he,  however,  but  another  man  who  wrote 
this  story.  Now,  stay  here  quietly  in  London  until 
you  hear  from  me.  I  shall  go  down  to  King's 
Lyndon  to-morrow.  I  may  not  succeed  in  bringing 
Lady  Fermor  around  to  my  views  immediately,  but 
in  two  or  three  days  something  must  be  settled." 

"I  will  do  as  you  suggest,"  replied  Seymour, 
rising. 

Lord  Castlemaine,  from  one  of  those  sudden  im- 


THE    RECKONING   DAY  279 

pulses  which  remained  from  the  wreck  of  virtue,  held 
out  his  hand  to  Seymour,  who,  however,  bowed  with 
quiet  dignity. 

"  I  thank  you,"  he  said,  "  but  I  never  offered  my 
hand  to  any  man  as  long  as  I  was  a  *  trusty.'  I 
certainly  should  not  do  so  now,  when  you  know  what 
I  was  and  what  I  am." 

Seymour  walked  across  and  out  of  the  great  room, 
and  Lord  Castlemaine  heard  the  heavy  street  door 
shut  after  him. 

In  Lord  Castlemaine's  opinion  Seymour  was  a  poor 
creature,  the  sport  of  destiny,  an  involuntary  con- 
vict, an  accidental  rich  man,  the  victim  of  his  affec- 
tions— never  were  two  men  more  opposed  than  Sey- 
mour and  Lord  Castlemaine.  Yet  Seymour  was  not 
without  dignity,  Lord  Castlemaine  was  made  to  feel. 

If  only  Lady  Fermor  could  prove  as  reasonable! 
Lord  Castlemaine  did  not  doubt,  however,  his  power 
to  coerce  Lady  Fermor  in  the  end. 


CHAPTER    XXII 

THE  HEART  OF  A  WOMAN 

IT  was  early  March;  one  of  those  soft,  bright  days 
which  seem  the  heralds  of  the  springtime.  The  rich, 
brown  earth  was  redolent,  the  gardens  and  lawns  of 
King's  Lyndon  had  a  faint  green  haze  upon  them 
which  would  soon  be  foliage.  Afar  off,  the  breezy 
uplands  and  champaigns  of  the  park  glowed  in  the 
warm,  rich  light.  There  would  be  storms  and  win- 
try days  yet,  before  the  summer,  but  to-day  was 
an  enchantment,  a  dream  of  May.  Theodora  and 
Fermor  had  been  married  six  weeks  that  day.  Fer- 
mor  was  teaching  Theodora  to  ride,  and  she  proved 
an  apt  pupil.  Already,  in  a  few  lessons,  she  had  got 
her  seat  and  was  quite  fearless.  They  had  ridden 
over  to  Barleywood,  which  was  in  perfect  order  for 
Seymour,  who  was  expected  to  arrive  at  any  mo- 
ment from  London.  When  Lord  and  Lady  Fermor 
returned,  they  did  not  go  within,  but,  still  wearing 
their  riding  dresses,  walked  around  the  lake.  Then 
Fermor  declared  he  must  go  to  his  study  and  work. 
He  was  by  nature  a  serious  man,  and  had  taken  a 
serious  view  of  life  while  still  in  the  Guards,  per- 
haps the  most  purely  ornamental  military  or- 
ganisation ever  known  on  this  planet.  Theodora, 

280 


THE    HEART   OF   A   WOMAN        281 

unlike  Fermor,  was  by  nature  a  child  of  laughter. 
Disappointment,  grief  and  shame  had  robbed  her 
early  of  her  gaiety,  but  in  the  sunny  air  of  happi- 
ness it  returned.  Fermor  was  amazed  and  delighted 
at  Theodora's  radiant  spirits,  the  airy  humour  she 
developed,  her  ready,  rippling  laughter.  Theodora 
herself  was  not  surprised.  She  was  like  a  frozen 
fountain  upon  which  the  summer  sun  had  shone 
warmly;  it  began  once  more  its  song  and  its  danc- 
ing. 

When  Fermor  had  gone  to  his  study,  Theodora 
changed  her  riding  dress  for  one  of  a  delicate  and 
spring-like  green,  and  put  on  her  head  a  hat  crowned 
with  roses.  She  went  to  the  little  yellow  room,  which 
seemed  to  her  the  very  abode  of  joy.  What  happy 
hours  had  she  known  in  that  little  room  since  her 
marriage!  Hours  so  serene,  so  full  of  calm  happi- 
ness, of  deep,  interior  peace — and  the  long  vista  of 
the  future  was  full  of  such  halcyon  hours.  Outside 
her  window^  a  family  of  robins  rioted  in  the  ivy. 
She  took  up  her  violin  and  began  to  imitate  their 
bird  notes.  A  little  way  off,  where  the  lake  laughed 
in  the  jocund  sunlight,  half  a  dozen  gardeners  were 
working,  whistling  as  they  trundled  their  barrows 
along.  On  the  warm  terrace,  a  flock  of  blue  pigeons 
chattered  softly. 

Suddenly,  a  tall  figure  crossed  the  terrace  and  un- 
ceremoniously opened  the  door  of  the  little  yellow 
room  where  Theodora  stood.  It  was  Lord  Castle- 
maine. 


282    THE   MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

As  he  meant  to  bend  Theodora  to  his  will,  he  be- 
gan by  placating  her.  He  kissed  her  on  the  cheek, 
complimenting  her  on  her  appearance  and  declared 
Fermor  to  be  a  lucky  dog.  Theodora  received  this 
with  smiling  pleasure.  She  was  always  flattered  by 
Lord  Castlemaine's  notice,  and  wished  to  please  his 
exacting  taste. 

"  I  will  send  word  to  Lord  Fermor  that  you  are 
here,"  she  said. 

"  No,  pray  don't.  I  wish  to  see  you  particularly," 
replied  Lord  Castlemaine.  "  There  is  a  grave 
matter  to  be  settled  and  I  wish  to  talk  with  you 
alone." 

Theodora  surmised  in  a  moment  that  this  grave 
matter  was  also  a  painful  matter.  Her  radiant  face 
grew  serious,  as  she  replied  quietly: 

"  I  am  a  great  believer  in  settling  unpleasant 
things  promptly.  I  suppose  it  is  a  part  of  my  Amer- 
ican blood." 

As  she  spoke  she  sat  down  close  by  the  window, 
the  strong  morning  light  falling  upon  her  black  hair 
which  accentuated  the  milky  whiteness  of  her  skin. 
Lord  Castlemaine  had  never  been  in  doubt  concern- 
ing the  marked  distinction  which  was  Theodora's  real 
claim  to  beauty,  and  it  had  never  been  more  obvious 
to  him  than  at  that  moment.  So  long  as  Theodora 
had  been  unhappy,  her  eyes  had  a  downward  glance 
and  she  was  indifferent  to  the  attention  of  those 
around  her,  but  now  that  she  had  become  acquainted 
with  true  happiness  and  the  joy  of  living,  she  held 


THE    HEART    OF    A   WOMAN         283 

her  head  up  with  the  proud  poise  which  is  char- 
acteristic of  American  women. 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  meant  to  tell  Theodora  in 
a  few  words  the  newspaper  story,  but  he  concluded, 
as  she  would  undoubtedly  demand  his  sources  of  in- 
formation, the  best  plan  was  to  give  the  newspaper 
clipping  to  her  in  the  first  instance.  He  took  it 
from  his  pocketbook  and  handed  it  to  her. 

"  Read  this,"  he  said ;  "  it  concerns  your  father." 
Theodora  took  the  clipping  and  said,  smiling : 
"  I  know  what  it  is.     Every  now  and  then,  some 
of  my  father's  good  deeds  get  into  print  and  it  an- 
noys him  dreadfully.     He  is  so  modest,  he  doesn't 
even  let  me  know  half  the  good  acts  he  does." 

She  began  reading,  Lord  Castlemaine  watching 
her  closely.  He  had  expected  Theodora  to  grow 
pale  as  soon  as  she  realised  that  the  person  referred 
to  was  Seymour;  instead  of  that,  the  red  blood 
poured  into  her  delicate  cheeks  until  her  face  was 
scarlet.  She  read  the  long  article  through  carefully 
to  the  end  without  showing  the  slightest  tremor  al- 
though deeply  flushed  with  indignation,  and  then, 
rising  and  crossing  the  room,  she  struck  a  match  and 
before  Lord  Castlemaine  could  check  her,  dropped 
the  clipping  on  the  hearth  and  saw  it  shrivel  up 
in  the  small  and  sudden  flame.  Then  turning  to 
Lord  Castlemaine  and  looking  him  in  the  face  with 
a  courage  which  he  had  never  seen  in  any  woman's 
eyes,  she  said  to  him: 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  showing  me  that  story?  " 


284    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  so  astounded  by  her  tone 
and  action,  that  it  took  him  at  least  five  seconds — 
a  long  time  for  him — to  collect  his  wits.  Then  he 
rose  to  his  feet  and  replied  coolly: 

"Because  it  is  true.     Your  father  admits  it." 

Theodora  remained  silent  and  a  little  smile  of  con- 
tempt appeared  upon  her  red  lips. 

"  I  require  my  father's  confirmation,"  she  said, 
"  before  I  will  believe  one  word  of  that." 

This  was,  in  effect,  calling  Lord  Castlemaine  a  tra- 
ducer.  He  had  thought  it  out  of  the  power  of  any- 
thing as  insignificant  as  a  woman  to  make  him  angry, 
but  this  made  him  very  angry. 

"  My  dear  Lady  Fermor,"  he  said  in  the  bland 
voice  which  always  meant  mischief  with  him,  "  what 
you  believe  or  not,  is  not  the  chief  point;  it  is  what 
is  to  be  done.  I  had  an  interview  with  your  father 
last  night  and  we  discussed  the  matter  thoroughly. 
He  behaved,  I  must  say,  most  commendably  and 
agreed  that  it  would  be  best  there  be  no  further  in- 
tercourse between  him  and  you  and  Fermor.  You 
can  readily  see  that  whatever  your  feelings  might 
have  been  before  your  marriage,  they  must  now  con- 
form to  Fermor's  wishes,  duties  and  position." 

"  I  understand  perfectly,"  replied  Theodora  in  a 
soft,  composed  voice.  "  When  I  married  Lord  Fer- 
mor, I  incurred  obligations  to  his  position.  He 
also  incurred  some  obligations  toward  me;  one  of 
them  is  that  when  my  father — the  best  of  men — is 
attacked  and  misrepresented,  it  is  Lord  Fermor's 


THE    HEART   OF   'A   WOMAN        285 

duty  to  stand  by  him.  I  feel  sure  he  will  do 
it." 

"  That  might  be  the  case,"  replied  Lord  Castle- 
maine,  still  dangerously  calm,  "  if  there  were  any 
question  concerning  this  charge  against  your  father, 
but  he  gave  me  every  detail  of  the  story  last  night. 
He  was  sentenced  to  serve  a  term  of  two  years  in 
state's  prison  for  involuntary  manslaughter  and  lar- 
ceny. He  took  advantage  of  a  chance  to  get  away 
from  prison  three  months  before  the  expiration  of 
his  term.  You  seem  to  be  unconscious  of  the  fact 
that  if  these  circumstances  had  been  known  before 
your  marriage  to  Lord  Fermor,  the  marriage  could 
not  have  taken  place." 

At  last  Lord  Castlemaine  had  driven  the  brave 
blood  from  Theodora's  face.  She  stood  pale  with 
anger  and  mortification,  her  eyes  blazing  and  fixed 
upon  Lord  Castlemaine.  The  conviction  that  what 
he  said  was  not  without  truth  and  even  justice,  added 
a  sharper  pang.  But  it  aroused  all  the  resentment 
in  Theodora's  nature,  and  she  was  a  woman  capable 
of  the  deepest  resentment. 

Lord  Castlemaine  mistook  her  silence  for  the  ad- 
mission that  she  saw  the  necessity  of  yielding. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  you  see  how  matters  are,  and 
it  is  absolutely  out  of  the  question  that  there  can 
be  any  open  association  between  you  and  your 
father.  Of  course  everything  will  be  done  to  hush 
the  matter  up  and  I  presume  it  can  be  managed. 
But  Seymour  must  remain  in  the  strictest  seclusion. 


S86    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

I  understand  that  he  was  to  be  included  in  the  house 
party  to  meet  the  Prime  Minister  Easter  week — 
that  is  quite  impossible  now." 

"  The  question  of  who  should  be  guests  at  King's 
Lyndon  during  Easter  week,  is  a  point  to  be  settled 
by  Lord  Fermor  and  myself,"  replied  Theodora  in  a 
composed  voice.  "  I  am  sorry  that  your  first  visit 
here  should  have  brought  with  it  such  painful  cir- 
cumstances, but  I  must  bid  you  good  morning." 

Theodora  did  not  ask  to  be  excused  or  make  any 
motion  to  leave  the  room,  and  Lord  Castlemaine  felt 
himself  ordered  out  of  the  house.  He  had  never  in  all 
his  experience  known  an  instance  of  a  wife  taking 
such  a  position,  and  that,  too,  without  consulting 
her  husband.  If  his  words  had  made  Theodora's 
delicate  face  burning  red,  hers  made  his  purple  with 
anger.  He  made  her  a  bow  without  speaking,  and 
walked  out  of  the  room.  Theodora  mechanically 
watched  him  walk  the  length  of  the  terrace  and  en- 
ter the  door  at  the  farther  end,  which  led  to  Fer- 
mor*s  study. 

She  remained  in  the  same  position  for  she  knew 
not  how  long.  By  the  strange  intuitive  perceptions 
of  women,  she  began  to  realise,  in  spite  of  her  pro- 
test, that  the  story  was  true.  Her  quick  and  re- 
tentive memory  glanced  backward  and  she  remem- 
bered that  her  father  often  spoke  of  expiation  and 
made  veiled  allusions  to  something  in  his  past  life 
which  needed  atonement.  Seymour  had  a  constant  and 
pathetic  longing  for  America,  and  she  herself  had 


THE    HEART    OF   A    WOMAN         287 

a  strong  desire  to  go  back  there  after  the  death  of 
Pietro  Fontarini.  Her  father  had,  with  much  agi- 
tation, but  without  giving  any  specific  reason,  as- 
sured her  of  the  impossibility  of  their  ever  return- 
ing. But  that  her  father  had  not  really  committed 
a  crime,  that  it  had  all  been  the  frantic  impulse  of 
a  moment,  even  the  newspaper  story  proclaimed. 
Theodora  had  too  much  of  sound  sense  to  ignore 
Fermor's  claim  in  the  matter,  and  there  was  another 
persistent  petitioner  in  Fermor's  behalf — her  own 
heart.  She  was  in  love  with  Fermor,  she  had  known 
it  before  she  married  him  and  she  knew  it  still  better 
now.  But  the  new  love  could  not  cast  out  the  old. 
Her  father  had  nothing  in  life  but  herself — his 
money  profited  him  nothing  but  the  pleasure  of  giv- 
ing it  way,  especially  to  her ;  his  generosity  had  been 
royal.  The  remembrance  of  his  sublime  affection, 
the  long  habit  of  passionate  devotion  to  him,  was 
upon  her.  It  involved  her  in  a  fierce  conflict  during 
which  one  thing  remained  clear — that  it  would  be 
impossible  for  her  to  abandon  that  tender,  appealing 
father.  She  had  often  felt  a  sense  of  shock  in  Eng- 
land at  the  strange  antagonism  which  is  sometimes 
seen  existing  between  parents  and  children.  It  was 
frightful  and  not  understandable  to  her.  Probably 
the  people  in  this  strange  land  of  her  adoption  could 
not  comprehend  the  closeness  of  the  tie  as  it  was  com- 
monly understood  in  America.  With  these  thoughts 
surging  through  heart  and  brain,  Theodora  knew 
not  that  a  half-hour  had  passed.  Then  Fermor 


288     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

entered  the  room  and  came  up  to  her.  Agitation 
and  emotion  overwhelmed  Theodora.  Fermor  rep- 
resented, to  her,  protection  and  tenderness.  She 
threw  herself,  pale,  trembling  and  sobbing,  into  his 
arms. 

Fermor  led  her  to  a  sofa  and  soothed  her  until 
she  was  able  to  speak. 

Her  tear-drowned  face  lay  against  his  shoulder, 
and  although  her  wild  sobs  had  ceased,  a  shuddering 
sigh  trembled  throughout  her  whole  body. 

"  My  father  has  told  me  about  it,"  he  said.  "  I 
am  afraid  he  was  a  little  abrupt  with  you." 

"I  resented  it,  of  course,"  answered  Theodora; 
"  and  I  resented  the  manner  in  which  Lord  Castle- 
maine  did  it.  If  it  had  come  to  me  from  you  it  would 
have  been  far  different." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better,"  replied  Fer- 
mor. 

"  Is  Lord  Castlemaine  here  now  ?  "  asked  Theo- 
dora, raising  herself  and  growing  a  little  calmer. 

"No,"  replied  Fermor  with  some  embarrassment, 
"  he  told  me  that  you  had  practically  ordered  him 
out  of  the  house." 

"  I  could  not  allow  anyone  to  speak  to  me  in  my 
own  house  as  Lord  Castlemaine  did,"  said  Theodora. 

Fermor's  face  changed  a  little  as  she  said  "my 
own  house,"  and  Theodora  hastily  added,  "  That  is 
the  way  an  American  woman  speaks  of  her  house.  It 
does  not  matter  whether  it  is  hers  or  her  hus- 
band's." 


THE    HEART    OF    A   WOMAN         289 

Theodora  felt  that  she  had  made  a  painful  mistake 
— that  this  was  one  of  these  subtle  points  upon 
which  the  American  and  English  mind  can  never 
agree,  and  she  unconsciously  raised  another  point  at 
once  by  saying,  "  Lord  Castlemaine  assumed  that  we 
must  withdraw  the  invitation  to  my  father  for  Eas- 
ter week." 

"  You  will  understand,"  said  Fermor  gently  but 
with  a  certain  coldness,  "  that  the  obligations  of  a 
family  and  a  house,  I  may  say,  must  be  considered." 

"  I  do  understand  it,"  replied  Theodora,  softly 
withdrawing  from  Fermor's  arm,  and  looking  with 
lonely  and  miserable  eyes  at  him,  "  but  are  not  the 
obligations  of  a  child  toward  the  best  and  kindest  of 
fathers  to  be  considered  too?  It  would  have  been 
a  delicate  thing  for  you  to  have  said  so  much  to  me, 
but  in  Lord  Castlemaine  it  was  most  unjustifiable." 

Theodora  withdrew  herself  still  farther  from  her 
husband's  arm,  and  the  husband  and  wife  looked 
coldly  in  each  other's  eyes.  There  was  a  rift  be- 
tween them  which  might  mean  a  chasm  so  narrow  as 
to  be  almost  imperceptible,  but  was  so  deep  that  it 
reached  the  very  foundation  of  things.  Here  was  a 
vital  point  and  each  had  rights  which  conflicted  with 
the  other. 

"  With  regard  to  my  father  coming  to  King's 
Lyndon,"  said  Theodora  after  a  pause,  "  that  will 
settle  itself,  he  will  not  come.  But  I  can't  admit 
Lord  Castlemaine's  right  to  interfere  in  any  way 
with  my  association  with  my  father.  If  my  affection 


290     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

did  not  make  me  keep  up  my  association  with  my 
father,  my  duty  would.  I  should  no  more  think  of 
abandoning  him  than  of  abandoning  you.  I  am  not 
a  slave,  but  a  wife." 

It  occurred  to  Fermor  that  this  was  the  American 
and  feminine  equivalent  to  what  every  Englishman 
is  supposed  to  maintain  at  all  costs,  "  I  am  master 
in  my  own  house."  This  last  was  always  taken  to 
mean  master  of  everybody  in  the  house,  but  Lady 
Fermor  not  only  disowned  this  proposition,  but  set 
up  a  counter  claim.  They  drew  apart  and  sat,  each 
in  a  corner  of  the  sofa,  facing  the  first  crisis  of  their 
marriage.  The  crisis  was  so  terrible,  involving  so 
much  of  honour  and  affection,  a  crisis  so  perilous 
to  their  new-found  happiness,  that  it  became  at  once 
the  greatest  affair  of  their  lives. 

"  I  think,"  said  Fermor,  after  a  pause,  "  that  we 
should  particularly  avoid  any  hasty  action  in  this 
matter.  It  is  not  easy  to  decide  these  things  within 
an  hour  of  their  happening." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  answered  Theodora  af- 
ter another  pause,  "but  meanwhile  I  must  see  my 
father.  I  shall  go  up  to  London  by  the  two  o'clock 
train." 

Fermor  made  no  reply  to  this.  Up  to  that  time 
Theodora's  calm  way  of  doing  things,  the  manner 
in  which  subjects  which  were  usually  yielded  to  a 
man  were  found  to  have  been  already  settled,  and 
judiciously  settled,  had  amused  and  even  pleased 
him.  Now,  however,  when  the  principle  applied  to 


THE    HEART    OF    A    WOMAN         291 

grave  and  serious  matters  it  had  its  inconveniences. 
He  had  never  known  exactly  how  to  controvert 
Theodora.  He  knew  less  than  ever  now,  because 
it  was  not  in  the  nature  of  an  honourable  man  to 
use  against  a  woman  the  weapons  of  force  he 
held  in  his  hand,  and  that  woman  had  aroused 
in  him  unexpected,  deep,  everlasting  and  passion- 
ate attachment  for  which  he  was  willing  to  sac- 
rifice much.  Theodora's  religious  preferences,  he  felt 
sure,  had  impaired  his  political  prospects.  Her  ob- 
stinacy concerning  her  father  might  cost  him  his 
political  future.  It  might  even  cost  him  the  sweet 
domestic  peace  which  had  suddenly  dawned  upon  him 
in  the  society  of  this  gentle  and  charming  creature. 
The  prospect  was  not  an  agreeable  one.  If  he  said  to 
Theodora,  "  I  would  prefer  you  should  not  see  your 
father  at  present,"  he  was  confident  that  Theodora's 
reply  would  be,  "  But  I  must  see  my  father  at  pres- 
ent," and  if  Fermor  had  answered,  "  I  forbid  it," 
there  was  no  way  for  him  to  enforce  it,  and  it  would 
precipitate  a  collision  between  them  when  they  would 
least  be  fitted  to  meet  it.  Fermor  glanced  toward 
Theodora.  She  was  leaning  back  and  the  large  bright 
tears  were  dropping  upon  her  cheeks,  now  once  more 
pale.  He  leaned  over  and  took  her  hand. 

"  Theodora,"  he  said  with  grave  sweetness,  "  let 
us  not  rashly  throw  away  our  happiness.  Let  us  not 
ask  impossible  things  of  the  other.  I  tell  you  frankly 
that  the  first  motive  of  our  marriage  on  my  part  was 
one  of  interest,  but  I  swear  to  you  now,  that  for 


292    THE    MARRIAGE   OF    THEODORA 

some  time  before  our  marriage  I  would  have  wished 
to  marry  you  if  you  had  not  five  pounds  to  your 
fortune.  I  think  you  can't  complain  that  I  have  not 
conceded  all  that  you  have  claimed.  But  in  this  you 
must  consider  someone  else  besides  your  father.  You 
must  consider  that  we  owe  something  to  the  children 
which  may  come  to  us." 

"  And  if  we  have  children,  they  will  owe  something 
to  us,"  replied  Theodora  with  the  passionate  stub- 
bornness of  a  faithful  woman.  "  If  we  should  expend 
upon  them  years  of  care,  oceans  of  money,  if  we 
should  make  countless  sacrifices  for  them,  as  my 
father  made  for  me— then  if  they  should  happen  to 
disapprove  of  us,  are  we  to  be  thrown  aside,  trampled 
upon,  insulted  and  then  forgotten  ?  " 

"  But  it  is  not  possible  that  any  such  contingency 
as  this  will  arise  in  our  case." 

"  Certainly  not,  but  other  contingencies  may  arise 
and  we  can't  judge  now  of  the  view  that  beings  not 
now  in  existence  will  take  of  any  subject  whatever. 
You  may  call  me  superstitious  if  you  like,  but  I  be- 
lieve, I  feel  in  my  heart,  that  if  I  desert  the  best  of 
fathers  now,  and  if  I  ever  have  a  child,  I  shall  reap 
retributive  justice  which  will  overtake  me  through 
that  child." 

She  spoke  warmly,  the  eloquent  blood  mounting 
to  her  cheeks.  Fermor  said  no  more.  He  saw  that 
it  was  useless  to  argue  against  her  tender  sophistry, 
her  unswerving  loyalty,  her  unreasoning  devotion, 
but  like  most  men,  he  loved  her  the  better  for  it.  A 


THE    HEART    OF    A   WOMAN         293 

woman  without  tender  sophistries  and  superstitions, 
would  hardly  be  a  woman. 

After  a  long  pause,  Theodora  spoke  again  in  a 
voice  of  concentrated  sadness. 

"  It  is  written,"  she  said,  "  that  love  with  me  shall 
always  mean  a  tragedy.  I  thought  when  I  married 
Pietro  Fontarini  that  I  loved  him,  and  see  how  that 
ended!  I  know  I  loved  my  child — what  a  fate  was 
his !  I  love  my  father,  and  it  seems  to  have  brought 
ruin  upon  him,  and  now  you."  She  rose  and  Fermor 
rose,  too. 

"  I  can  make  an  answering  confession  to  yours," 
she  continued.  "  There  never  was  any  question  of 
interest  or  rank  with  me.  I  think  love  came  to  me 
before  it  did  to  you.  When  a  woman  loves,  there  is 
but  one  limit  to  the  sacrifices  she  will  make,  and  that 
is  to  sacrifice  someone  else  she  loves.  I  can't  sacri- 
fice my  father;  if  I  am  too  constant  and  too  faithful 
to  him — well,  it  is  my  nature  to  be  constant  and 
faithful." 

Fermor  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her  on  the  lips. 

"Whatever  happens,  Theodora,"  he  said,  "we 
at  least  know  that  we  love  each  other." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Theodora,  and  returned  his  kiss. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

THE  COUNSELS  OF  FRIENDS 

ONLY  a  few  persons  in  this  world  have  self-command 
enough  to  prevent  family  cataclysm  from  being  known 
to  the  domestic  staff.  But  not  one  of  the  army  of 
servants  at  King's  Lyndon  suspected  that  there  was 
a  grave  disagreement  between  Lord  and  Lady  Fer- 
mor. Luncheon  was  at  one  o'clock,  so  that  Theodora 
could  easily  make  the  train  for  London.  Lord 
Fermor  went  with  her  to  the  station  and  put  her  in 
the  compartment.  Theodora  told  him  that  she  would 
wire  him  at  what  hour  to  meet  her  next  day,  as  she 
would  remain  over  night  at  her  father's  house.  She 
had  made  an  excuse  for  not  taking  her  maid,  wishing 
to  be  entirely  alone. 

There  were  other  passengers  in  the  railway  car- 
riage, so  that  Lord  and  Lady  Fermor's  parting  was 
made  with  a  handshake  and  the  waving  of  Theo- 
dora's handkerchief.  Lord  Fermor  raised  his  hat  to 
her  as  the  train  moved  out  of  the  station. 

Theodora  sat  back  in  her  corner,  oppressed  with 
the  feeling  that  she  was  acting  not  only  against  the 
feelings,  but  against  the  interests  of  the  man  she 
loved.  But  as  she  had  said  truly,  her  nature  was  too 
faithful  and  constant  for  her  to  forget,  all  at  once, 
the  claims  of  an  earlier  love. 

She  reached  London  within  an  hour,  and  driving 
29* 


THE    COUNSELS    OF    FRIENDS       295 

to  the  great  house  in  Queen's  Gate,  went  at  once 
to  her  father's  study  and  knocked  on  his  door,  with 
the  little  familiar  rap  she  had  used  since  her  child- 
hood and  which  was  always  met  with  a  welcoming 
response.  Theodora  did  not  wait  for  an  answer  this 
time,  but  went  in  and  placed  her  arms  about  her 
father's  neck  before  he  could  rise  -from  his  chair. 
Then  both  of  them  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears. 

Seymour  recovered  himself  first. 

"  Why  did  you  come  ?  "  he  asked  brokenly.  "  I  am 
afraid  it  was  against  your  husband's  wishes." 

"  Did  you  think  I  could  stay  away?  "  asked  Theo- 
dora. "  What  a  heart  you  must  think  I  have !  When 
I  remember  from  the  time  I  was  a  little  girl,  all  your 
goodness  to  me — oh!  how  could  you  think  I  could 
forget  it ! " 

"  Theodora,"  said  Seymour  solemnly,  raising  his 
hand,  "  I  swear  to  God  I  never  meant  to  do  that 
man  an  injury,  nor  do  I  believe  he  meant  to  do  me 
an  injury.  He  struck  me  first  and  I  struck  him 
back.  As  for  the  money,  I  was  crazy  when  I  took  it, 
and  I  restored  every  dollar  of  it.  When  it  came  to 
the  running  away  from  prison,  I  asked  no  man's  par- 
don for  that.  I  heard  that  you,  a  little  helpless 
child,  were  ill  and  alone,  and  I  went  to  you.  I  took 
my  own  money  I  had  earned  in  prison.  If  I  have 
done  you  any  wrong,  I  have  tried  to  atone  for  it." 

"  Hush !  hush !  "  cried  Theodora,  weeping  again, 
"  you  never  did  any  human  being  a  conscious  wrong 
— as  for  the  money  you  gave  me,  it  was  only  a  part 


296     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

of  what  you  did  for  me.  Look  at  the  house  in  which 
I  live,  and  Barleywood,  which  you  chose  for  your- 
self. It  was  like  that  always." 

"  Did  Fermor  object  to  your  coming? "  asked 
Seymour. 

Those  who  have  lived,  in  such  intimacy  as  Theo- 
dora and  her  father,  cannot  deceive  each  other  when 
they  would.  Theodora  answered: 

"  He  made  no  objection  in  words." 

"  You  should  not  have  come,"  said  Seymour,  and 
to  this  Theodora  answered  as  she  would  have  an- 
swered in  like  case  to  Fermor.  "  You  would  have 
come  to  me  in  the  same  circumstances." 

"Have  you  seen  Lord  Castlemaine?  "  asked  Sey- 
mour anxiously. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Theodora  calmly,  but  in  a  tone 
which  showed  there  had  been  a  collision  between  Lord 
Castlemaine  and  herself.  "  I  don't  think  Lord  Cas- 
tlemaine will  again  give  me  his  opinion  on  any  ques- 
tion concerning  my  personal  relations  with  anyone." 
Then  taking  off  her  hat,  Theodora  said:  "I  have 
come  to  remain  the  night  and,  as  Fermor  says  truly, 
we  must  wait  a  few  days  and  think  carefully  over 
what  course  to  pursue." 

It  was  now  nearly  four  o'clock,  and  Theodora,  fol- 
lowing her  plan  of  giving  no  indication  of  the  agita- 
tion of  her  spirits,  ordered  tea  in  the  drawing-room 
and  sat  there  with  her  father  as  she  had  done  a  year 
ago,  when  she  had  first  met  with  the  man  with  whom 
her  heart  as  well  as  her  life  was  now  eternally  bound. 


THE    COUNSELS    OF   FRIENDS       297 

As  she  sat  in  her  familiar  place  doing  the  well-known 
things,  the  past  year  seemed  to  her  a  brilliant,  tu- 
multuous and  agitated  dream,  full  of  deep  joy  and 
sharp  pain. 

Seymour  had  recovered  his  patience  and  compo- 
sure. Theodora's  tenderness  soothed  and  consoled 
him.  In  the  midst  of  their  quiet  talk,  the  door  opened 
and  a  young  ecclesiastic  was  ushered  in. 

"  I  am  Father  Mina,"  he  said,  bowing  to  Theodora 
and  speaking  English  with  an  Italian  accent.  "  I  am 
Secretary  of  his  Eminence,  Cardinal  Fontarini.  I 
believe  I  am  addressing  Lady  Fermor." 

Theodora  bowed  and  introduced  Seymour,  and 
Father  Mina  took  a  chair. 

"  I  am  always  deeply  interested  in  His  Eminence," 
Theodora  replied ;  "  he  has  ever  been  most  kind  to 
me." 

"  His  Eminence  sends  me  to  you  with  a  message. 
He  is  in  London  almost  incognito,  and  he  wishes  to 
avoid  publicity,  as  he  is  very  far  from  strong.  He 
begs  me  to  say  to  you,  that  he  would  be  most  pleased 
to  see  you  any  time  to-morrow  at  his  hotel."  Father 
Mina  named  a  small  and  quiet  hotel  in  an  old  and 
distant  part  of  town. 

"  Pray  say  to  His  Eminence,"  replied  Theodora, 
"  that  I  shall  have  pleasure  in  waiting  upon  him  at 
any  hour  convenient  to  himself.  Would  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning  suit  him?  " 

"  I  am  quite  sure  it  would,"  replied  Father  Mina, 
"  as  I  know  he  has  no  engagement  at  that  hour." 


298     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Father  Mina  would  not  remain  longer  or  even  ac- 
cept the  cup  of  tea  which  Theodora  offered  him,  but 
took  his  leave.  To  Theodora  this  chance  of  talking 
with  Cardinal  Fontarini  seemed  singularly  oppor- 
tune. He  had  been  to  her  a  powerful  friend  in  the 
days  of  storm  and  stress.  It  had  occurred  to  her, 
coming  up  in  the  train,  that  she  would  like  to  con- 
sult some  disinterested  friend,  like  Ashburton  or 
Father  White,  but  she  knew  well  it  would  not  be 
agreeable  to  Lord  Fermor  that  she  should  seek 
the  advice  of  either  one  of  them  in  a  matter  so 
closely  affecting  their  mutual  relations ;  but  this 
coming  interview  with  Cardinal  Fontarini  was  so  un- 
expected and  so  unsought  by  her  that,  as  she  was 
prone  to  tender  superstitions,  it  seemed  to  her  al- 
most the  intervention  of  God. 

The  next  morning  when  Theodora  reached  the 
hotel  where  Cardinal  Fontarini  was  lodged,  she  was 
shown  into  an  old-fashioned  sitting-room.  Cardinal 
Fontarini  was  reclining  in  a  great  chair  by  the  fire 
and  his  table  was  littered  with  letters  and  papers. 
He  was  a  tall,  stern-looking  old  man,  but  his  eye 
was  not  unkind.  Theodora's  greeting  was  respect- 
ful, and  even  affectionate,  and  the  Cardinal  con- 
gratulated her  upon  her  improved  appearance  and 
inquired  after  her  father.  Then  he  expressed  grati- 
fication at  her  entering  the  Church  and  hoped  she 
was  happy  in  her  recent  marriage.  This  gave  Theo- 
dora the  opportunity  she  desired. 

"  It  seems  like  an  answer  to  a  prayer,  that  your 


THE    COUNSELS    OF    FRIENDS       299 

Eminence  should  have  come  to  London  now  for  these 
few  days.  I  want  some  advice,  some  help,  and  my 
recollection  of  your  kindness  in  years  past,  gives  me 
confidence  to  ask  it  of  your  Eminence." 

The  Cardinal  bowed  in  acknowledgment  and 
said: 

"  Such  help  and  advice  as  I  can  give  you  is  always 
at  your  service.  I  am  under  the  impression  that  a 
Catholic  woman  married  in  a  great  Anglican  family, 
has  her  difficulties." 

"  It  is  hardly  that,  your  Eminence,"  said  Theo- 
dora after  a  pause.  "  Although  I  am  sure  Lord 
Fermor  would  have  preferred  I  should  remain  an 
Anglican,  he  has  made  no  active  opposition  to 
my  religion  and  did  not  demur  to  any  promises  re- 
quired from  him  upon  our  marriage.  He  has  been 
unfailingly  kind  about  it,  but  it  is  something  else 

most  painful "  Theodora  stopped.  Her  dark 

eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  had  never  felt  any  fear  of 
this  austere  old  man.  In  the  old  days  he  had  always 
understood  her  tortured  heart  and  had  listened  to 
her  sympathetically,  as  he  did  now  while  she  told 
him  the  painful  story  that  had  come  to  her  from 
Lord  Castlemaine  only  twenty-four  hours  before. 
She  omitted  nothing,  and  even  spoke  of  her  over- 
whelming indignation  which  had  made  her  practically 
invite  Lord  Castlemaine  to  leave  her  house. 

"  That,"  murmured  the  Cardinal  in  a  low  voice, 
'*  seems  to  have  been  an  extreme  measure." 

"  Perhaps  it  was,"  replied  Theodora ;  "  for  my- 


300     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

self,  I  cannot  regret  it.  But  I  do  regret  it  on  Lord 
Fermor's  account.  Your  Eminence  will  admit  it  was 
a  terrible  moment,  a  dreadful  thing,  for  a  daughter 
to  face." 

"  Quite  so,  but  still  it  might  have  been  differently 
managed.  The  question,  though,  to  which  you  seek 
an  answer,  is,  as  I  understand,  what  must  your  future 
course  be." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Theodora,  "  but  I  don't  mean  to 
ask  whether  I  ought  to  give  up  my  father  or  not — I 
mean  only  to  ask — how  I  shall  act  so  as  to  do  my 
duty  both  by  my  husband  and  my  father." 

The  Cardinal  paused  a  moment  and  looked  fixedly 
at  Theodora.  The  old  feeling  came  into  her  heart 
that  this  man  had  in  him  a  rigidity  of  piety  and 
aloofness  which  would  be  sure  to  give  her  a  disinter- 
ested view. 

"  Some  of  the  Fathers  have  maintained,"  he  re- 
plied after  a  while,  "  that  a  wife  can  do  no  wrong  if 
she  acts  on  the  command  of  her  husband,  but  others 
have  not  held  this  to  be  sound.  I  should  say  that 
you  are  quite  justified  in  principle,  in  refusing  to 
give  up  association  with  your  father.  But  having 
asserted  and  maintained  your  right,  you  should  ex- 
ercise it  sparingly  and  with  great  discretion." 

Theodora  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  She  had  asserted 
her  right,  and  was  prepared  to  maintain  it,  and  she 
was  also  prepared  to  exercise  that  right  with  the  ut- 
most regard  for  the  feelings  of  her  husband.  A  deep 
resentment  toward  Lord  Castlemaine  had  grow  up 


THE    COUNSELS    OF    FRIENDS       301 

in  her  heart  since  the  day  before,  but  she  now  saw 
the  obligation  of  assuming  a  conciliatory  attitude 
toward  him. 

"  I  thank  your  Eminence,  and  I  shall  follow  your 
advice  as  strictly  as  I  can,  but  the  trouble  goes 
deeper.  I  find  that  in  England  there  is  a  totally 
different  conception  of  family  ties  from  what  pre- 
vails in  America.  There  is  a  different  conception 
of  the  position  of  a  wife.  I  cannot  make  myself 
into  an  Englishwoman  in  fact  as  I  am  in  law.  I 
wish  to  do  everything  possible  for  my  husband,  not 
only  because  he  is  my  husband,  but  because  I  love 
him;  but  I  sometimes  fear  that  I  shall  offend  him 
without  knowing  why." 

"  That  is  common  in  all  countries  and  ages,"  re- 
plied the  Cardinal  with  a  slight  smile.  "  Do  your 
duty  as  you  see  it  and  try  not  to  offend  your  hus- 
band or  any  of  his  family  or  friends.  I  think,  how- 
ever, they  have  no  right  to  require  you  to  hold  no 
further  intercourse  with  your  father." 

Theodora  remained  only  a  short  time  after  that. 
When  she  rose  to  go  the  Cardinal  rose,  too,  and 
Theodora  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  his  large, 
spare  form  had  grown  feeble. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  this  may  be  our  last  meet- 
ing. When  I  return  to  Rome,  I  scarcely  expect  to 
leave  it  again.  I  went  to  Paris  to  see  a  dying  friend, 
one  of  the  French  Cardinals,  a  life-long  friend  of 
mine  from  the  days  when  we  were  young  seminarians. 
I  came  to  England  for  two  days  upon  a  similar  er- 


302    THE   MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

rand;  an  old  friend  and  ecclesiastic  whose  time  on 
earth  is  short  expressed  a  strong  wish  to  see  me.  It 
seems  to  me  that  my  own  time  should  be  coming  rap- 
idly. I  only  ask  that  it  find  me  at  work  in  the  cause 
of  God.  Farewell !  Write  me  within  a  month,  and  if 
I  am  living,  I  will  answer." 

Theodora  went  out,  fortified  in  her  resolution. 
When  she  stepped  from  her  carriage  at  her  father's 
door,  she  saw  Lord  Castlemaine  coming  out  of  Cas- 
tlemaine  House.  The  influence  of  Cardinal  Fontarini 
was  still  strong  upon  Theodora  and  made  her  turn 
into  the  gateway  and  meet  Lord  Castlemaine  half 
way.  She  held  out  her  hand  and  said  quietly : 

"  Perhaps  I  was  rash  in  what  I  said  yesterday  at 
King's  Lyndon.  I  can't  apologise  for  it,  but  I  can 
say  that  I  hope  we  may  remain  friends." 

Lord  Castlemaine  had  never  been  able  to  remain 
at  enmity  with  a  really  clever  and  attractive  woman. 
He  felt  a  thoroughgoing  contempt  for  the  Flora 
Bellendens  of  this  world,  not  because  they  broke  the 
moral  law,  but  because  they  were  invariably  women 
of  bad  taste.  He  grinned  cheerfully,  however,  at 
Theodora,  and  taking  her  small  outstretched  hand, 
shook  it  cordially. 

"  You  were  rather  hard  on  me  yesterday,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  am  of  a  forgiving  nature.  I  am  beginning 
to  believe  that  the  Americans  are  developing  an  en- 
tirely new  and  not  merely  a  composite  race,  in  which 
the  women  are  sul  generis.  As  far  as  I  can  see,  Fer- 
mor  has  not  had  his  own  way  once  since  he  became 


THE    COUNSELS    OF    FRIENDS       303 

engaged  to  be  married  to  you.  That  is  entirely  for- 
eign to  British  traditions.  To  make  it  still  queerer, 
he  seems  to  be  perfectly  happy  and  satisfied — not  a 
dejected  captive  like  my  brother-in-law,  Joshua  Bat- 
tle. You  seem  to  have  tied  Fermor  with  garlands  of 
roses  instead  of  iron  chains,  as  my  sister  Lady  Susan 
has  done  with  poor  old  Battle." 

Theodora  smiled  a  little.  It  was  a  relief  to  her 
sad  and  overcharged  heart  that  Lord  Castlemaine 
could  adopt  his  usual  tone  of  banter  toward  her. 

"  I  must  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,"  she  said. 
"  I  never  contemplated  at  any  moment,  even  if  Lord 
Fermor  should  request  it,  the  giving  up  of  my  father 
— I  cannot  and  I  will  not  do  that,  but  I  will  do  any- 
thing else  for  Lord  Fermor's  happiness  or  interest." 

She  spoke  these  words  in  her  softest  manner  and 
with  her  most  appealing  glance.  One  would  have 
thought  that  she  was  conceding  everything  at  the 
moment  that  she  was  claiming  everything.  Lord 
Castlemaine  looked  at  Theodora  searchingly  and  in- 
dulged himself  in  his  usual  plain  speaking. 

"  You  speak  softly,  but  you  mean  sternly,"  he 
said.  "  Remember,  this  question  involves  Fermor's 
whole  personal  and  political  future.  It  involves,  also, 
the  future  of  any  children  you  may  have.  You  have 
undoubtedly  damaged  Fermor  by  becoming  a  Ro- 
man Catholic.  Don't  talk  to  me  about  religious  lib- 
erty and  freedom  of  conscience.  It  is  all  poppy- 
cock in  any  country  where  there  is  a  State  Church. 
Religious  toleration  means  religious  intoleration, 


304     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

and  you,  my  dear  lady,  with  your  little  hands,  can- 
not move  these  mountains.  Of  course,  you  will  go 
your  own  gait,  but  allow  me  the  privilege  of  saying, 
*  I  told  you  so.'  " 

Lord  Castlemaine  gallantly  escorted  Theodora  to 
her  father's  door  and  there  left  her.  Theodora  went 
upstairs  carrying  with  her  a  heavy  heart.  Was  she 
indeed  a  millstone  around  Fermor's  neck  ?  He  might 
have  married  an  Englishwoman  who  could  have 
brought  him  all  the  money  he  needed  and  who 
would  have  been  of  a  nature  and  temperament  to  help 
rather  than  hinder  him. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

THE  TRUCE  or  LOVE 

THEODORA  walked  straight  to  the  library,  expecting 
to  see  her  father  there.  Instead,  Ashburton  was 
standing,  his  back  to  the  fire  in  the  national  attitude 
of  an  Englishman.  When  Theodora  recognised  him, 
her  sad  preoccupied  manner  changed  and  she  greeted 
him  warmly.  She  would  have  liked  to  pour  out  to 
him  all  her  perplexities,  but  she  was  restrained  by 
the  feeling  that  Lord  Fermor  would  not  like  that  she 
could  consult  Ashburton  in  any  matter  between  Fer- 
mor and  herself.  It  was  enough  that  she  had  con- 
sulted Cardinal  Fontarini. 

Ashburton,  however,  at  once  opened  the  subject. 

*'  Mr.  Seymour  sent  for  me  this  morning,"  he 
said,  "and  told  me  the  painful  story  of  his  life.  I 
felt  deeply  for  him,  for  you  and  for  Lord  Fermor." 

Theodora  sat  down  on  the  sofa,  took  off  her  gloves 
and  threw  back  the  rich  dark  fur  that  showed  off  her 
delicate  and  distinguished  beauty. 

"I  am  glad  my  father  sent  for  you,"  she  said, 
"you  are  so  practical,  so  clear-headed — you  see 
things  as  they  are." 

"  I  try  to,  anyway,"  replied  Ashburton.  "  I  found 
your  father  predetermined  to  return  to  America  and 
serve  the  three-months'  term  in  prison  and  accept  any 

305 


806    THE   MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

other  penalty  which  he  might  have  incurred.  That 
was  so  radical  a  measure  that  I  persuaded  him  to 
send  for  Wyndham,  who  might  give  us  the  American 
view  of  things.  He  is  here  now  with  your  father  in 
his  private  room.  Wyndham's  first  impression  was 
that  a  pardon  might  still  be  secured  from  the  Gov- 
ernor of  the  State,  but  it  would  have  to  be  on  your 
application.  Wyndham  tells  me  that  in  America, 
the  plea  of  a  man  for  mercy  is  not  generally  heeded, 
but  the  plea  of  a  woman  is  extremely  likely  to  pre- 
vafl." 

"I  would  go  to  America  at  once,"  replied  Theo- 
dora, and  then  remembering  that  Ashburton  was  an 
"Englishman,  she  added,  "I  should  ask  Lord  Fer- 
mor's  consent,  and  I  am  sure  he  would  give  it.  One 
thing,  however,  must  be  understood.  I  can't  give  up 
my  father  or  forbid  him  my  house  or  fail  to  come 
to  see  him.  My  father,  as  you  know,  is  the  last  per- 
son on  earth  to  make  any  claim.  He  would  efface 
himself  if  possible,  but  I  believe  at  his  time  of  life 
and  feeble  as  he  is  growing,  a  final  separation  from 
me  would  kill  him." 

"You  are  right,"  replied  Ashburton  earnestly, 
**  all  the  forces  against  your  father  are  those  of  in- 
terest. He  has  been,  I  know,  the  best  of  fathers  to 
you-  He  is  old,  he  is  feeble,  he  is  broken-hearted. 
Read  in  the  Gospels  and  see  what  Christ  would  have 
you  to  do.  I  don't  say  you  ought  to  defy  your  hus- 
band and  thereby  make  the  worst  of  this  complication 
which  is  certainly  against  Fermor's  interests,  but  I 


THE    TRUCE    OF   LOVE  307 

do  say  that  you  should  not  be  required  to  give  up 
all  further  association  with  your  father." 

Theodora  felt  a  brightening  and  uplifting  of  the 
soul.  It  was  as  if  she  breathed  a  purer  atmosphere. 
Like  Cardinal  Fontarini,  Ashburton  had  dwelt  upon 
the  moral  and  ethical  side  of  the  question.  Yes,  she 
would  read  in  the  Gospels,  not  only  concerning  her 
relations  with  her  father,  but  how  she  could  accom- 
modate those  ideals  as  far  as  possible  with  her  rela- 
tions to  her  husband.  Fermor  had  always  attached 
consequence  to  Ashburton's  views  because  Ashburton 
was  a  man  eminently  practical.  Theodora  had  not 
consulted  Ashburton,  but  Ashburton  had  voluntarily 
given  her  his  opinion. 

Just  then  the  door  opened  and  Wyndham  entered. 
He  came  up  to  Theodora  and,  taking  her  hand,  said 
with  tears  in  his  eyes: 

"  When  I  think  that  it  was  through  me  all  this 
distress  has  come  upon  you  and  Mr.  Seymour,  it  al- 
most breaks  my  heart.  Mr.  Seymour  told  me  of  the 
newspaper  which  was  sent  to  Lord  Castlemaine.  I 
recalled  having  left  that  newspaper  at  Mrs.  Bellen- 
den's  house  in  Chester  Street." 

Theodora's  face  changed  at  the  mention  of  Mrs. 
Bellenden.  Lord  Fermor  had  never  once  spoken  Mrs. 
Bellenden's  name  to  his  wife,  and  this  very  caution 
on  his  part,  together  with  Mrs.  Bellenden's  attitude 
toward  herself,  had  made  Theodora's  quick  wit  sur- 
mise that  there  had  been  some  link  in  the  past  be- 
tween her  husband  and  Mrs.  Bellenden.  Insulted 


308    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

pride  and  resentment  shone  in  her  dark  eyes.  All 
the  woman  in  her  was  aroused.  She  had  the  nimble 
American  mind  which  reaches  conclusions  quickly. 
Lord  Castlemaine  had  told  her,  in  so  many  words, 
that  if  he  could  have  reached  England  in  time,  he 
would  have  used  what  influence  he  could  to  prevent 
the  marriage.  And  it  was  Mrs.  Bellenden  who  had 
dared  to  attempt  the  disposition  of  her  destiny! 
Theodora's  conscience  received  a  powerful  access  of 
courage  from  her  offended  pride  and  indignation. 
She  looked  full  into  the  faces  of  the  two  men  before 
her  and  said  with  cool  promptness : 

"  Mrs.  Bellenden,  I  imagine,  is  a  woman  of  very 
wicked  character  and  conduct,  and  capable  of  odious 
things." 

Theodora  was  to  return  to  King's  Lyndon  by  the 
three  o'clock  train,  which  gave  her  only  half  an  hour 
to  be  with  her  father.  Ashburton  and  Wyndham  ar- 
ranged to  go  with  her  to  the  station,  and  Theodora 
went  into  her  father's  room  to  spend  the  last  half 
hour  with  him.  He  was  sitting  in  his  great  arm- 
chair and  looked  old  and  shrivelled  and  broken- 
hearted. Theodora  knelt  by  him  and  put  her  arms 
about  him  as  if  he  were  a  child.  Always  the  rela- 
tions of  father  and  daughter  had  been  reversed  be- 
tween them.  It  was  Theodora  who  now  assumed  a 
protecting  tenderness  over  her  father. 

"  Dearest  papa,"  she  said,  "  Lord  Fermor  will  not 
require  that  I  shall  give  you  up,  and  if  he  did  I  could 
not  do  it." 


THE    TRUCE    OF    LOVE  309 

"  That  was  what  I  told  Lord  Castlemaine,"  re- 
plied Seymour,  his  pale  old  face  working  with  emo- 
tion. "  I  told  him  it  would  not  be  worth  while  for 
him  to  forbid  you  to  come  to  me." 

"  It  would  be  perfectly  useless,  and  if  you  tried  to 
hide  yourself  from  me,  I  would  search  the  whole  world 
over  for  my  father." 

"  I  told  Lord  Castlemaine  that,  too.  But,  Theo- 
dora, are  you  acting  right  by  your  husband  and  his 
family?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  doing  what  is  right." 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  dear,  that  you  are  doing  it  be- 
cause you  want  to  do  it." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  Theodora,  rising.  "  I  could 
not  abandon  you,  any  more  than  you  could  abandon 
me.  There  you  have  the  whole  matter." 

Then  she  drew  her  chair  up  to  him  and  told  him 
of  Lord  Fermor's  kindness,  his  indulgence,  and  of  her 
conviction  that  he  would  think  as  she  did  on  the  sub- 
ject. She  was  not  so  confident  as  she  claimed  to  be, 
but  she  succeeded  in  convincing  Seymour,  whose 
spirits  perceptibly  improved. 

When  it  was  time  for  Theodora  to  go  to  the  train, 
the  big  landau  came  to  the  door  and  Theodora,  with 
Wyndham  and  Ashburton,  entered  it.  There  was 
but  little  time  at  the  huge  and  crowded  station. 
Wyndham  and  Ashburton  barely  managed  to  thrust 
Theodora  into  a  compartment  ten  seconds  before  the 
train  moved  off.  Theodora  had  the  compartment 
to  herself.  She  sat  back  in  the  corner,  wearied 


310     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

with  the  racking  emotions  of  the  last  twenty-four 
hours. 

As  the  train  sped  out  of  London,  darkness  and 
fog  were  left  behind  and  the  soft  glow  of  the  late 
March  afternoon  lay  upon  the  rich  and  beautiful 
landscape.  The  sunshine  entered  into  Theodora's 
soul.  After  all,  she  was  returning  to  the  man  she 
loved,  and  he  was  her  husband.  Everything  could 
be  arranged — everything  must  be  arranged.  It  was 
impossible  that  a  husband  and  wife  who  loved  each 
other  and  who  were  experienced  enough  to  be  dis- 
creet, should  throw  away  their  happiness. 

When  the  train  drew  into  the  little  station  at 
King's  Lyndon,  Lord  Fermor  was  waiting  for  his 
wife  and  put  her  at  once  into  his  motor.  It  was 
close,  so  that  they  were  quite  alone.  Theodora,  like 
many  women,  was  not  less  attractive  for  the  stress  of 
feeling.  A  faint  colour  which  was  unusual  with  her, 
glowed  in  her  cheeks.  She  was  glad  to  be  once  more 
with  Fermor,  and  told  him  so.  Fermor  in  his  cool 
English  way  was  equally  pleased  to  have  his  wife 
back. 

By  tacit  agreement,  nothing  was  said  concerning 
Theodora's  visit.  They  were  not  a  boy  and  girl  to 
spoil  the  joy  of  their  meeting  by  dragging  in  a 
painful  subject  any  sooner  than  was  necessary. 

There  was  still  time  for  a  walk  in  the  park,  and 
the  fresh  cool  air  was  sweet  after  London.  The 
walk  was  meant  to  last  for  an  hour,  but  nightfall 
and  a  splendid  moonrise  found  Theodora  and  Fer- 


THE    TRUCE    OF    LOVE  311 

mor  still  in  the  open.  Never  had  Theodora  used 
more  winning  arts  with  Fermor.  She  had  been  told 
that  it  was  her  duty  to  conciliate  him,  particularly 
at  this  time — and  is  was  so  easy,  so  sweet!  They 
both  felt  a  sort  of  intoxication  of  controlled  joy  and 
tenderness,  deeper  for  its  restraint — the  joy  and 
tenderness  of  the  matured  soul. 

It  was  their  first  separation  for  a  day  since  their 
marriage,  and  the  joy  and  tenderness  of  meeting 
again  they  put  into  half-laughing  words,  and  later 
into  an  eloquent  silence.  Even  when  they  returned 
to  the  house,  they  lingered  on  the  terrace,  watching 
the  moon-lit  lake,  the  shimmering  light  and  dark- 
ness of  the  shadowy  night.  It  seemed  to  Theodora 
a  good  omen  that  they  should  have  had  such  hours 
of  exaltation  before  facing  the  heart-breaking  prob- 
lem which  clamoured  for  settlement. 

Theodora  had  barely  time  to  dress  for  dinner, 
but  when  she  came  into  the  drawing-room  she  was 
in  striking  good  looks.  Her  beauty,  of  the  deli- 
cate American  type,  was  accentuated  by  her  artful 
mode  of  dress.  Lord  Fermor  could  not  have  told  to 
save  his  life  what  the  difference  was  between  his 
wife's  clothes  and  other  women's  clothes,  except  that 
Lady  Fermor's  always  seemed  to  be  as  much  a  part 
of  herself  as  the  plumage  of  a  dove  or  the  radiant 
wings  of  the  butterfly.  To-night,  she  wore  a  shimmer- 
ing gown  the  colour  of  the  palest  violets,  with  little 
glints  of  gold  all  over  it,  and  her  hair  was  crowned 
with  a  coronet  of  violets.  At  the  small  round  din- 


312    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

tier  table  in  the  vast  and  splendid  dining-room, 
Theodora  told  Fermor  across  the  shaded  candles 
what  she  wished  the  butler  and  footmen  to  know. 
She  spoke  of  her  father  with  the  greatest  composure 
and  also  told  of  receiving  the  message  from  Cardinal 
Fontarini  upon  her  arrival  in  London  and  of  going 
to  see  him.  Fermor  did  not  tell  her  something  that 
had  happened  in  her  absence — a  covert  insinuation 
in  the  newspaper  in  the  market  town  of  King's  Lyn- 
don, implying  that  Lord  Fermor's  sympathies  were 
no  longer  with  the  Established  Church  and  that,  in  a 
dispute  which  was  brewing  between  the  Bishop  and 
one  of  the  clergy,  Lord  Fermor  would  probably  be 
glad  if  both  sides  could  be  worsted.  This  was  a  speci- 
men of  what  had  been  gathering  since  Lord  Fermor's 
marriage,  and  which  had  undoubtedly  weakened  him 
politically  in  the  division.  Also,  Reyburn,  the  shoe- 
maker, had  written  Fermor  a  letter  saying  that  the 
report  was  going  about  among  Socialist  circles  and 
workingmen's  meetings  in  the  divisions,  that  Lord 
Fermor  shortly  intended  to  establish  a  Roman  Catho- 
lic chaplain  at  King's  Lyndon,  and  that  a  chapel  was 
about  to  be  built  for  that  purpose.  It  was  all 
ridiculous  and  childish  nonsense,  but  it  meant  a  loss 
of  popularity  followed  by  a  loss  of  votes. 

After  dinner  Fermor  and  Theodora  went  into  the 
little  yellow  room  where  Theodora  was  in  the  habit 
of  playing  her  violin  while  Lord  Fermor  smoked. 
He  was  passionately  fond  of  music  and  at  no  time 


THE    TRUCE    OF    LOVE  313 

were  Theodora's  charms  more  powerful  with  him  than 
when,  standing  in  the  glow  of  lamp  and  fire,  she 
showed  the  exquisite  grace  which  violin  playing 
often  develops  in  a  woman.  He  had  never  ceased 
to  wonder  at  the  strength  in  her  delicate  arms  and 
hands,  but  that  was  the  way  in  everything  about 
her.  This  delicate  creature  had  the  steady  resolu- 
tion of  a  dozen  tall  and  majestic  Lady  Susan  Bat- 
tles. 

It  was  Theodora's  fixed  intention  to  charm  Lord 
Fermor  at  that  moment,  and  she  succeeded.  Never 
had  she  played  better;  never  had  she  chosen  with 
more  art  what  would  please  him  in  the  way  of  soft 
and  emotional  music.  Fermor  realised  that  it  would 
be  difficult  to  refuse  this  woman  anything,  but  diffi- 
culties do  not  mean  impossibilities  to  an  Englishman. 
Of  one  thing,  however,  he  was  quite  sure — that  noth- 
ing could  impair  the  love  and  respect  he  felt  for  his 
wife. 

When  Fermor's  cigar  was  finished  and  Theodora 
had  played  a  last  cadenza  and  laid  down  her  violin, 
she  came  and  sat  down  on  the  sofa  by  Fermor.  She 
laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and  received  his  praise 
and  kisses ;  then  the  real  battle  began. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  all  that  happened  in  Lon- 
don," she  said,  looking  at  him  with  that  peculiarly 
fascinating  gaze  which  was  hers.  "  I  told  my  father 
what  he  knew  before,  that  I  could  no  more  give  him 
up  than  he  could  give  me  up." 


Fermor  said  nothing.  She  was,  perhaps,  right,  but 
it  would  mean  a  great  deal  of  discomfort  for  both  of 
them. 

"  Then,"  continued  Theodora,  "  when  Cardinal 
Fontarini  sent  for  me,  I  told  him  of  my  perplexities. 
Ton  understand,  I  did  not  take  them  to  him  volun- 
tarily. Only,  as  he  had  given  me  good  counsel  in 
days  past,  and  saved  me  from  the  rage  of  the  Fonta- 
rini family,  I  felt  sure  that  his  advice  would  be  valu- 
able. So  it  was.  He  told  me  that  I  was  perfectly 
right  in  the  principle  of  not  giving  up  the  associ- 
ation with  my  father  in  any  possible  event,  not  only 
because  he  is  my  father,  but  because  he  has  been  the 
best,  the  most  devoted — oh!  you  must  know  how 
good  papa  has  always  been  to  me!  But  the  Cardi- 
nal also  said,  while  I  should  stand  by  this  principle 
firmly,  I  should  exercise  it  with  the  greatest  discre- 
tion and  care  for  your  wishes." 

"Admirable,5'  said  Fermor,  smiling;  "the  only 
difficulty  is  in  the  combination." 

"  At  all  events,  I  felt  sure  that  I  was  not  quixotic 
after  aU.  Then  when  I  went  home,  I  found  Major 
Ashburton  there  with  my  father  talking  about  it,  and 
without  asking  him  to  advise  me,  he  expressed  him- 
self exactly  as  the  Cardinal  had  done.  Mr.  Wynd- 
ham  also  came.  Of  course  he  took  the  purely  Ameri- 
can view,  and  I  don't  think  it  ever  occurred  to  him 
that  I  should  be  expected  to  give  up  association  with 
my  father." 

"My  dear  Theodora,"  said  Fermor  with  calm 


THE    TRUCE    OF    LOVE  315 

good  humour,  "  you  will  act  as  all  true  women  act — 
from  their  hearts.  If  I,  instead  of  your  father,  were 
concerned,  you  would  do  the  same  for  me.  You 
would  drag  me  up  from  Devil's  Island  to  the  Legion 
of  Honour,  as  Madame  Dreyfus  did.  Let  us  say  no 
more  about  it.  You  will  consider  my  interests,  no 
doubt,  but  I  can  hardly  expect  you  to  take  the  same 
view  as  an  Englishwoman  would.  I  shall  love  you 
just  as  much  though,  and  perhaps  a  trifle  more." 

Fermor  took  Theodora's  hand,  but  she  withdrew  a 
little  and  her  face  assumed  the  kind  of  statuesque 
repose  which  was  a  sure  indication  of  her  displeasure. 

"  I  discovered,  quite  by  accident,  how  the  news- 
paper was  sent  to  Lord  Castlemaine.  You  will  re- 
call that  Lord  Castlemaine  said  to  me,  that  if  he  had 
known  this  in  time,  he  would  certainly  have  tried  to 
prevent  our  marriage." 

"  My  father  committed  an  outrage,"  said  Fermor 
quickly. 

"  The  newspaper  was  left — in  Chester  Street — 
and  was  sent  anonymously  to  Lord  Castlemaine." 

Fermor's  English  composure  was  not  easily  dis- 
turbed, but  now  he  coloured  slightly  and  looked  away 
from  Theodora. 

Theodora's  suppressed  indignation  communicated 
itself  to  Fermor,  who  mumbled  something  between  his 
teeth,  which  Theodora  understood  to  be  objurga- 
tions of  Mrs.  Bellenden. 

"  I  beg  you  will  understand,"  he  said  to  Theo- 
dora, "  that  as  far  as  that  woman  is  concerned,  she 


316     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

has  not  the  slightest  claim  upon  my  consideration.  I 
take  upon  myself  the  whole  blame  in  the  beginning, 
as  a  gentleman  must,  but  the  last  five  years  I  paid 
for  my  folly.  I  thought  I  had  paid  enough  for  it, 
but  it  seems  the  price  is  to  be  exacted  of  you,  too.  I 
am  sorry — I  apologise  for  it,  but  I  can't  help  it." 

Having  brought  Fermor  down  into  the  dust,  so  to 
speak,  Theodora,  like  a  true  woman,  proceeded  to 
forgive  him.  Her  face  changed,  her  eyes  rilled  with 
tears. 

"  It  is  past,"  she  said ;  "  let  us  never  speak  of  it 
again." 

Then,  there  was  the  truce  of  love. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

GOD  AND  MANY  MEN 

EASTEB,  that  year,  came  the  middle  of  April,  and 
Lord  Fermor  meant  to  signalise  his  entrance  into 
public  life  and  the  rehabilitation  of  King's  Lyndon 
by  entertaining  a  large  political  party.  There  were 
some  additional  guests,  Marsac  and  his  wife,  the 
Wyndhams,  and  two  of  the  Battle  girls.  Lady 
Susan  was  tempted  to  withdraw  her  acceptance  for 
Jane,  when  she  heard  that  Wyndham  was  to  be  at 
King's  Lyndon,  but  finding  that  Jack  Thornycroft 
was  included  in  the  party,  was  induced  to  take  haz- 
ardous chances.  Lord  Castlemaine,  of  course,  was 
to  be  of  the  party,  and  before  Theodora  could  men- 
tion it,  Fermor  had  put  down  Seymour's  name  among 
the  list  of  guests.  This  was  in  February,  before  the 
painful  facts  concerning  Seymour  had  been  revealed. 
Seymour  did  not  care  for  such  things,  but  Theo- 
dora had  written  him  that  he  must  stay  at  least  one 
night  under  the  roof  of  King's  Lyndon  with  her 
other  guests  and  as  a  compliment  to  Lord  Fermor 
and  herself,  and  after  that  he  would  be  allowed  to 
retire  to  Barleywood. 

Nothing  had  been  said  of  this  invitation,  but 
Theodora's  mind  was  made  up  as  a  part  of  the  pact 
with  her  conscience,  that  she  would  not  insist  on  Sey- 

317 


318     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

mour's  presence  at  the  house  party,  and  so  told  Fer- 
mor.  He  replied  with  kindness,  that  perhaps  for 
Seymour's  own  sake,  it  would  be  best  to  let  him  re- 
main at  Barleywood,  which  would  certainly  be  his 
preference. 

The  preparation  for  entertaining  a  party  of 
thirty  guests  for  three  days  took  up  much  of  Theo- 
dora's time.  The  presence  of  the  Prime  Minister  and 
his  wife  was  to  be  made  a  political  occasion.  A  meet- 
ing in  the  interests  of  the  party  was  to  be  held  in  the 
market  town  on  Easter  Monday,  when  the  Prime 
Minister  and  Fermor  and  two  or  three  of  the  other 
guests  were  to  address  a  political  meeting.  Fermor 
suggested  that  Theodora  should,  with  some  of  the 
other  ladies,  address  a  meeting,  but  Theodora  only 
looked  at  him  with  wondering  eyes  and  said: 

"  I  shouldn't  know  what  to  say." 

"  Don't  say  anything,"  replied  Fermor,  laughing ; 
"  only  talk  and  look  pretty." 

But  this  was  obviously  so  foreign  to  Theodora 
that  Fermor  said  nothing  more  about  it.  She  would 
appear  upon  the  platform  and  would  be  escorted  to 
and  from  her  carriage.  Her  charm  and  grace  would 
not  be  without  their  effect.  Within  his  heart  of 
hearts,  Fermor  had  always  doubted  whether  these 
addresses  by  ladies  were  of  any  practical  benefit. 
Nobody  ever  listened  to  what  they  said  unless  it  was 
totally  revolutionary.  Their  dress  and  appearance, 
however,  were  closely  scrutinised,  and  in  this  last  re- 
spect Theodora  was  a  valuable  ally. 


GOD    AND    MANY    MEN  319 

Theodora,  at  first,  had  entered  into  these  plans 
with  enthusiasm.  She  felt  like  a  girl  going  to  her 
first  ball,  so  new  to  her  was  happiness  and  a  heart 
free  from  care.  All  the  arrangements  had  been  com- 
pletely and  skilfully  made,  but  the  terrible  revela- 
tions of  the  last  few  days  had  driven  it  out  of  Theo- 
dora's mind.  She  was  recalled  to  it,  however,  as  the 
day  approached.  It  was  her  habit  to  write  to  her 
father  daily,  and  she  had  often  alluded  to  his  com- 
ing down  at  Easter,  fearing  that  at  the  last  he 
might  beg  off.  Now,  however,  she  made  no  mention 
of  the  Easter  party  and  secretly  hoped  that  her 
father  would  of  himself,  decline  to  come.  This  hope 
was  realised  within  three  days  from  her  return  from 
London. 

One  morning  she  went  into  Fermor's  study  and 
laid  before  him  a  letter  from  Seymour.  It  was  plain 
and  unstudied,  like  Seymour  himself,  and  not  the  let- 
ter of  an  educated  man,  but  Theodora  thought  it  the 
more  touching. 

"  I  can't  come  to  you,  my  darling  Theodora,"  the 
letter  ran.  "I  know  that  you  and  Lord  Fermor 
would  treat  me  kindly  and  would  never  ask  me  to 
take  a  back  seat,  but  all  the  same  it  is  not  right  for 
me  to  go,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  never  did  want 
to  be  at  King's  Lyndon  during  the  Easter  party.  I 
am  acting  on  the  advice  of  Major  Ashburton  and  Mr. 
Wyndham  in  staying  in  London  in  my  house,  and  I 
think  a  crisis  will  come  pretty  soon.  Mr.  Wyndham 
has  been  writing  to  America  to  influential  men  he 


320    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

knows.  He  says  the  Governor  will  grant  me  a  par- 
don. When  I  think  of  what  I  have  brought  on  you, 
I  can't  sleep  at  all." 

Theodora  attempted  to  read  the  letter  to  Fermor, 
but  broke  down  weeping.  Fermor  soothed  her  and 
encouraged  her  to  go  up  to  London  next  day  for  a 
few  hours  to  see  her  father. 

This  Theodora  did,  and  was  shocked  to  see  the 
change  in  Seymour.  He  looked  haggard  beyond 
words  and  was  more  like  a  man  of  eighty  than  one 
of  sixty.  But  he  did  not  lack  for  attention.  Ash- 
burton  and  Wyndham  were  devoted  in  their  kindness 
to  him,  and  visited  him  daily. 

He  brightened  up  under  Theodora's  visit  and  her 
promise  to  come  again  in  a  few  days.  Theodora  re- 
turned home  more  anxious  about  Seymour  than  she 
had  yet  been. 

It  was  arranged  that  during  the  three  days  when 
Wyndham  would  be  a  guest  at  King's  Lyndon, 
Ashburton,  who  had  no  taste  for  such  parties,  and 
had  asked  to  come  at  some  other  time,  should  see 
Seymour  daily.  Theodora's  concern  about  her  father 
touched  Fermor,  and  he  voluntarily  went  alone  to 
London  twice  to  see  Seymour,  and  once  with  Theo- 
dora. The  passionate  affection  between  father  and 
daughter  was  moving  enough  to  Fermor,  but  through 
it  all  ran  a  real  and  painful  apprehension.  He  was, 
like  Lord  Castlemaine,  a  firm  believer  in  atavism  and 
thought  that  the  element  of  weakness  in  Seymour's 
character,  the  want  of  resolution  which  had  made  him 


GOD    AND    MANY   MEN 

a  criminal,  was  a  dangerous  strain  to  introduce  into 
a  family.  He  yearned  for  children,  but  if  they  were 
given  him,  especially  sons,  there  would  always  be  that 
unspoken  fear  that  along  with  Seymour's  gentleness 
and  generosity  might  come  that  fatal  weakness. 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  not  a  good  man  to  inherit 
from,  but  Fermor  knew  that  a  man  who  was  all  reso- 
lution was  less  dangerous  as  a  progenitor  than  a 
man  who  was  absolutely  without  resolution.  If  Sey- 
mour had  been  a  strong  man  he  might  have  saved 
Theodora  much  of  what  she  had  suffered  with  Pietro 
Fontarini.  Nevertheless,  Fermor,  although  troubled 
by  these  thoughts,  was  all  kindness  and  respect  to- 
ward Seymour.  In  return  Seymour  was  almost 
piteous  in  his  gratitude. 

Theodora  had  herself  written  a  pretty  note  to  Lord 
Castlemaine  asking  him  to  come  to  King's  Lyndon 
whenever  he  liked,  but  especially  before  the  great 
party  arrived,  and  had  received  a  good-humored  re- 
ply. Lord  Castlemaine  at  the  time  was  enjoying  one 
of  his  choicest  dissipations.  He  was  in  his  seat  in 
the  House  of  Lords  night  after  night,  professing  to 
fight  the  battles  of  his  party  and  making  the  Prime 
Minister  shudder  at  such  dangerous  support.  Lord 
Castlemaine  not  only  denounced  measures,  but  men, 
with  a  savage  eloquence  which  made  him  dreaded  alike 
by  friend  and  foe.  When  he  supported  a  measure  of 
his  own  party,  he  was  sure  to  find  out  every  weak- 
ness in  it  and  to  exercise  freely  his  wit,  which  was  a 
trifle  more  dangerous  than  his  invective.  He  was  re- 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

warded  by  a  large  attendance  on  the  Opposition 
benches  and  much  space  in  the  newspapers.  These 
were  sources  of  pagan  pleasure  to  him,  and  this,  to- 
gether with  the  Circean  spell  of  London,  kept  him  in 
town.  He  vigorously  denounced  the  practice  of  run- 
ning away  from  London  on  Sunday,  and  declared 
that  he  would  rather  smell  London  smoke  and  sniff 
London  fog  than  dwell  in  the  gardens  of  the  Hes- 
perides. 

The  spring  was  coming  on  apace.  Never  had  Fer- 
mor  seen  so  early  and  beautiful  a  season  at  King's 
Lyndon.  The  snowdrops  and  crocuses  showed  their 
pretty  faces  shyly  everywhere.  The  weather-fowl  on 
the  lake  made  the  early  morning  resonant  with  their 
shrill,  cheerful  cries.  All  over  the  place  sounded  the 
sharp  twitter  of  the  robins  and  blackbirds.  The  clear, 
austere  air  grew  warm  at  midday,  and  the  twilights 
were  soft  and  long.  Theodora's  spirits  wrere  per- 
turbed and  she  lived  in  a  tumult  of  ever-changing 
emotion.  Her  reading  of  the  newspapers,  and  chance 
conversation  with  the  people  of  their  own  class  in 
the  neighbourhood,  convinced  her  that  her  religious 
belief  was  undoubtedly  affecting  Fermor's  political 
fortunes  unfavourably.  But  he  loved  her — of  that 
she  was  certain,  and  it  was  more  than  she  had  hoped 
for  in  the  beginning.  It  was  as  if,  having  picked 
up  a  stone,  it  had  turned  to  a  lovely  crystal  in  her 
hand. 

Although  matters  between  Lord  Castlemaine  and 
herself  had  been  smoothed  over,  Theodora  felt  that 


GOD    AND    MANY    MEN  323 

the  first  collision  between  them  would  not  be  the 
last.  She  rather  looked  forward  to  the  house  party 
as  affording  a  distraction  from  her  own  insistent 
thoughts  and  feelings. 

Good  Friday  dawned  in  rain  and  darkness.  Theo- 
dora had  ordered  her  motor  at  the  unprecedented 
hour  of  half-past  five  in  order  to  attend  six-o'clock 
service,  which  was  the  only  one  of  the  day  in  the 
little  church  at  Hillborough.  This  was  excitedly 
discussed  by  the  servants,  who  had  realised  that 
Theodora  was  mistress  at  King's  Lyndon  and  found 
it  difficult  to  reconcile  her  calm  assumption  of  au- 
thority with  her  gentleness  and  habit  of  deferring 
in  most  things  to  Lord  Fermor. 

When  Theodora  came  out  of  her  room  in  the 
darkness  of  the  rainy  dawn,  at  half-past  five,  Fer- 
mor, with  hat  and  greatcoat,  joined  her,  much  to  her 
surprise. 

"  I  don't  care  to  have  you  going  in  the  rain  and 
darkness  alone  to  Hillborough,"  he  said. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Theodora  with  a  bright  smile, 
slipping  her  arm  within  his. 

They  went  down  and  got  into  the  closed  car, 
which  started  off  rapidly.  Theodora  leaned  back 
in  her  corner,  absorbed,  as  Fermor  knew,  in  religious 
meditation.  It  was  a  thing  of  which  he  knew  little 
and  had  seen  less,  and  it  seemed  to  make  a  division 
between  himself  and  his  wife.  But  he  respected  it 
and  even  wished  that  he  could  feel  as  Theodora 
did. 


324     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

It  was  still  dark  when  they  reached  the  little 
town,  and  the  congregation,  with  umbrellas  and 
goloshes,  was  trooping  quietly  into  the  church.  The 
altar,  stripped  of  its  ornaments  to  express  the  deso- 
lation of  the  world  on  the  day  of  the  Crucifixion, 
the  door  of  the  tabernacle  wide  open  and  emptiness 
within,  the  two  altar  candles  that  made  mere  points 
of  light  in  the  darkness,  impressed  Fermor  more 
than  he  expected.  At  a  small  side  altar,  radiant 
with  lights  and  fragrant  with  flowers,  the  Host  re- 
posed. 

Fermor  had  seen  the  most  imposing  rites  of 
Catholicism  celebrated  in  Rome.  He  had  heard  the 
trilling  and  the  wailing  of  the  Miserere  in  the  Sis- 
tine  chapel,  and  had  seen  the  great  basilicas  in 
the  majestic  gloom  and  awful  sorrow  of  Good  Fri- 
day. But  it  had  struck  no  personal  note  within 
him.  This  time  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  every  soul 
present  in  the  little  dark  church  were  mourning  the 
sufferings  and  the  death  of  Christ.  The  profound 
silence  was  broken  only  by  the  movements  and  whis- 
pered words  of  the  priest  at  the  altar. 

Kenelm  Redcliffe,  by  his  dignity,  his  grace  at 
the  altar,  his  noble  and  spiritual  face,  had  in  him 
the  power  to  compel  respect  for  what  he  was  do- 
ing, and  it  was  to  commemorate  the  death  of  God. 
A  tenseness  of  emotion  possessed  the  silent  kneel- 
ing figures  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  altar  which 
represented  the  doom  of  Christ.  The  priest  with 
uplifted  hands  seemed  like  one  of  those  disciples 


GOD    AND    MANY    MEN  3£5 

who  were  actually  present  at  the  awful  tragedy  of 
Calvary.  At  the  moment  of  the  Elevation,  when 
the  stillness  if  possible  grew  more  still  and  every 
heart  seemed  to  be  united  with  the  Heart  of  the 
suffering  Lord,  the  sharp  sound  of  the  wooden 
tracklet,  which  presented  with  a  singular  and 
startling  realism  the  nailing  of  the  hands  and  feet 
of  Christ  to  the  cross,  smote  the  air.  Until  that 
moment  the  Crucifixion  had  seemed  to  Fermor  a  far- 
off  mysticism;  now  it  was  as  if  it  had  happened 
yesterday.  He  glanced  at  Theodora.  She  was 
leaning  forward,  her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  and 
Fermor  could  see  that  she  was  silently  weeping. 
Many  other  persons  in  the  crowded  church  were 
weeping.  To  all,  the  Crucifixion  was  a  real  and 
present  thing.  When  the  mass  was  over,  all  pres- 
ent rose  and  went  forward  and  knelt  at  the  altar 
rails.  Those  for  whom  there  was  no  room,  knelt  in 
the  aisles.  Father  Redcliffe  took  from  the  altar  a 
large  crucifix  of  brass  and  ivory,  passing  it  along 
the  altar  railing,  and  every  person  kneeling  there 
reverently  kissed  the  feet  of  the  sculptured  Christ. 
It  was  done  with  such  a  fervour  of  pity  and  devo- 
tion that  it  might  have  been  the  feet  of  the  dead 
Christ. 

Theodora  was  one  of  the  last  to  go  up  to  the  al- 
tar rail.  All  went  in  turn,  and  Fermor,  accustomed 
to  the  recognition  of  rank  in  church,  was  amazed 
to  see  working  men  and  women  crowding  in  advance 
of  the  few  well-dressed  persons  present.  The  work- 


326     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ing  people  had  to  go  to  their  daily  toil  and  could 
not  afford  to  wait. 

As  Theodora  rose  from  her  knees  in  the  aisle  and 
went  forward,  an  impulse  perfectly  unknown  in  Fer- 
mor's  whole  previous  life,  took  hold  of  him.  One 
did  not  need  to  be  a  Roman  Catholic  to  kiss  the 
feet  of  Christ.  He  rose,  went  up  the  aisle,  and 
knelt  by  Theodora.  As  she  bent  over  and  kissed 
the  feet  nailed  to  the  cross,  Father  Redcliffe  saw 
Fermor  kneeling  at  her  side,  and  without  the  least 
hesitation  held  the  Crucifix  out  to  him,  and  Fer- 
mor reverently  kissed  the  feet.  He  rose  as  Theo- 
dora did  and  they  returned  to  their  seats.  Theo- 
dora was  keenly  conscious  of  Fermor's  action.  Like 
all  women,  she  was  disposed  to  overrate  impulses, 
and  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  Fermor  were  already  one 
with  her  in  religion. 

In  a  few  minutes,  with  the  rest  of  the  congrega- 
tion, Fermor  and  Theodora  left  the  church.  It  was 
still  but  faintly  light.  Fermor  put  Theodora  in 
the  car  and  shut  the  door.  Theodora  threw  her- 
self in  his  arms  and  kissed  him. 

"  Don't  attach  too  much  importance  to  what  I 
did,"  said  Fermor  gravely,  "  but  I  will  say  this, 
that  I  now  understand  better  than  before,  the  im- 
pulse that  made  you  a  Roman  Catholic.  It  was 
wonderfully  impressive." 

Fermor  was  not  surprised,  however,  to  hear,  two 
days  afterward,  that  it  was  rumoured  he  had  become 
a  Roman  Catholic.  He  promptly  denied  this,  but 


GOD    AND    MANY    MEN  327 

he  reckoned  that  his  act  would  cost  him  several  hun- 
dred votes  in  a  close  contest. 

The  day  continued  dark  and  rainy  and  it  was 
as  if  the  world  had  taken  a  sudden  plunge  back- 
ward into  winter.  In  the  afternoon,  as  Theodora 
was  passing  along  the  hall  she  looked  out  of  the 
window,  and  to  her  surprise,  she  saw  her  father  on 
the  terrace.  Although  it  was  raining,  his  head  was 
bare  and  he  stood  looking  about  him  with  a  strange 
uncertainty.  Before  the  footman  could  reach  the 
door,  Theodora  ran  and  opened  it  and  drew  her 
father  within  the  hall.  He  had  on  no  greatcoat 
and  was  soaked  with  rain.  He  put  his  arms  about 
Theodora  and  kissed  her  passionately.  Theodora, 
accustomed  to  think  and  act  promptly,  saw  at  a 
glance  that  something  was  wrong  with  Seymour, 
and  after  telling  the  footman  to  ask  Lord  Fermor 
to  come  to  her  at  once,  led  Seymour  into  the  little 
yellow  room,  where  the  fire  was  sparkling.  Fermor 
came  in  immediately  and  Seymour-  shook  hands 
warmly  with  him  and  then  turned  to  Theodora. 

"  I  am  glad  that  Lord  Fermor  has  come,"  he  said. 
'*  I  wanted  to  talk  to  him  on  some  business  matters. 
He  will  no  doubt  stay  to  dinner  with  us." 

Seymour's  eyes  had  in  them  a  strange  look  of 
distress  and  he  seemed  struggling  to  recollect  him- 
self. Theodora  glanced  at  Fermor.  There  was 
evidently  something  quite  wrong  with  Seymour. 
Fermor  rang  the  bell,  and  when  the  footman  came 
directed  a  dressing-gown  and  slippers  to  be  brought 


328     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

at  once  to  Mr.  Seymour.  Theodora  was  meanwhile 
getting  Seymour's  coat  off  him  against  his  feeble 
protest. 

"  My  dear  Theodora,"  he  was  saying,  "  I  don't 
see  why  you  do  this.  It  was  never  my  habit,  even 
in  my  roughest  days,  to  appear  before  ladies  like 
this.  My  child,  you  must  not  do  it — at  any  rate 
before  Lord  Fermor,  who  is  our  guest." 

"  Never  mind,  Mr.  Seymour,"  said  Fermor,  "  your 
coat  is  a  little  wet  and  we  think  it  best  that  you 
should  change  it.  I  suppose  you  lost  your  great- 
coat in  the  train." 

"  I  haven't  been  in  the  train  at  all,"  said  Sey- 
mour, looking  with  a  puzzled  expression  from  Fer- 
mor to  Theodora,  "  I  only  came  from  my  room  a 
little  while  ago  into  my  daughter's  sitting-room.  I 
didn't  know  that  you  were  here." 

Theodora  took  her  little  lace  handkerchief  and 
passed  it  over  Seymour's  white  hair  wet  with  the 
rain.  He  caught  her  hand  and  held  it  like  another 
Lear  once  more  in  the  presence  of  his  Cordelia. 
Tears  were  dropping  upon  Theodora's  cheeks,  but 
she  tried  to  speak  cheerfully. 

"  Really,  papa,  you  are  not  fit  to  be  trusted  alone. 
Come — put  your  feet  to  the  fire,  while  I  take  off 
your  shoes." 

She  knelt  down,  took  off  Seyour's  sodden  shoes 
and  rubbed  his  chilled  feet.  Fermor  went  out  of 
the  room  for  a  moment  and  came  back  again  and 
whispered  to  Theodora : 


GOD    AND    MANY    MEN  329 

"  Rolfe  will  be  here  in  ten  minutes." 

Dr.  Rolfe  was  the  physician  whose  house  was  at 
the  end  of  the  village  nearest  the  park  gates  of 
King's  Lyndon.  It  was  plain  that  Seymour  was  out 
of  his  mind  and  yet  dimly  conscious  that  something 
was  amiss.  He  took  Theodora's  left  hand  and  look- 
ing at  the  third  finger,  said: 

"  Why  are  you  wearing  a  wedding  ring?  I  saw 
you  myself  when  you  took  the  wedding  ring  of  that 
scoundrel,  Pietro  Fontarini,  from  your  hand  and 
threw  it  into  the  fire.  Is  it  possible  that  you  have 
married  again  without  telling  me  ?  " 

"  You  remember  that  I  married  Lord  Fermor  two 
months  ago,"  said  Theodora  gently. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  replied  Seymour  with  a  look  of 
distress,  "  I  don't  seem  to  remember  anything. 
Some  time  ago  I  was  living  in  London  and  you  used 
to  come  to  see  me,  but  then  I  don't  know  how  it  hap- 
pened, I  find  to-day  that  I  am  living  at  King's  Lyn- 
don and — I  can't  understand  it." 

It  was  piteous  to  hear  him  and  still  more  piteous 
to  see  Theodora's  tender  ministrations.  The  one 
thing  clear  in  Seymour's  shattered  mind  was  that 
Theodora  still  loved  him — that  she  was  still  his  child. 
In  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  Dr.  Rolfe  walked  in — >a 
keen-eyed  man  with  a  capacity  for  taking  things 
in  quickly.  He  asked  Seymour  a  few  questions  to 
test  his  memory,  which  seemed  defective,  rather  than 
absolutely  gone,  and  he  was  conscious  of  his  inabil- 
ity to  answer  correctly,  and  would  say  pathetically, 


830    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"I  never  forgot  those  things  before."     The  doctor 
then  said  to  him  cheerfully: 

"  Come,  Mr.  Seymour,  I  think  you  had  better  take 
a  nap  now,  and  you  will  feel  better  to-morrow  morn- 

ing." 

Seymour  yielded  at  once  and  was  led  upstairs  and 
put  to  bed  in  his  old  room.  He  dropped  off  quickly 
into  sleep,  and  Theodora  left  Reyburn  watching  him 
and  went  downstairs  with  the  doctor  to  her  husband's 
study. 

"  It  is  not  much  so  far,"  said  Dr.  Rolfe ;  "  there 
is  a  slight  blood  clot  on  the  brain.  There  are  at 
present  no  serious  symptoms,  and  a  day's  quiet  and 
the  mustard  bath  I  gave  Mr.  Seymour,  may  restore 
him  perfectly." 

"  It  may  be  the  beginning  of  the  end,"  said  Theo- 
dora in  a  low  voice. 

Dr.  Rolfe  made  no  reply,  except  to  leave  some  sim- 
ple directions,  and  went  away,  saying  he  would  re- 
turn in  the  evening. 

The  spectacle  of  pure  devotion  in  a  woman,  is 
peculiarly  appealing  to  a  normal  man,  if  that  devo- 
tion is  lavished  upon  a  legitimate  object.  Fermor 
had  never  admired  Theodora  more  than  in  her  af- 
fectionate solicitude  for  her  stricken  father.  She 
established  herself  in  the  room  next  Seymour's,  ready 
to  answer  his  slightest  call,  although  Reyburn  and 
a  man  servant  were  watching.  She  was  not,  how- 
ever, unmindful  of  Fermor,  and  said  to  him: 

"  You  can  have  an  evening  of  uninterrupted  read- 


GOD    AND    MANY    MEN  331 

ing,  as  I  don't  expect  you  to  remain  here  with  me. 
I  will  come  down  to  dinner." 

Fermor  returned  to  his  study,  where  work  awaited 
him. 

At  dinner  time,  Seymour  was  still  half  sleeping 
and  apparently  comfortable.  Theodora  asked  to  be 
excused  from  dressing  for  dinner  and  came  down  in 
the  same  simple  black  gown  she  had  worn  during 
the  day,  according  to  the  custom  she  had  acquired 
from  the  Roman  ladies  of  wearing  black  on  Good 
Friday.  She  strove  to  be  cheerful,  especially  after 
Dr.  Rolfe's  evening  visit,  when  he  brought  with  him 
a  white-capped  nurse.  The  nurse,  however,  found 
her  office  a  sinecure,  as  Theodora  remained  in  the 
next  room  that  night  and  many  times  went  in  to 
see  how  her  father  fared. 

Fermor  showed  her  deep  sympathy  and  kindness, 
And  when,  soon  after  daylight,  Theodora,  who  had 
thrown  herself  on  a  sofa  and  fallen  into  a  troubled 
sleep,  awakened,  Fermor  was  standing  by  her.  He 
told  her  that  her  father  was  sleeping  quietly  and, 
covering  her  up  tenderly,  persuaded  her  to  try  to 
sleep  once  more. 

When  Theodora  came  down  to  breakfast,  Sey- 
mour was  up  and  dressed  by  the  doctor's  permission 
and  seemed  quite  normal.  Nevertheless,  Theodora 
felt  that  King's  Lyndon  was  not  the  place  for  him 
at  the  time.  She  understood  very  well  that  the  house 
party  was  not  so  much  a  matter  of  pleasure,  as  one 
of  much  political  importance  to  Fermor.  The  pres- 


332     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ence  of  the  Prime  Minister  meant  much,  and  the  visit 
had  been  planned  with  a  view  to  its  political  effect 
in  a  doubtful  division.  Theodora  had  already  de- 
termined upon  her  course  of  conduct  and  told  Fer- 
mor  so.  It  was  among  the  surprises  of  his  Amer- 
ican wife  that  she  always  seemed  to  think  and  act  for 
herself  and  then  to  inform  him  of  her  decision,  and 
as  the  thing  generally  was  sensible,  no  objection 
could  be  made. 

She  said  to  Fermor  sitting  by  the  table  in  his 
study  at  which  he  was  looking  over  his  letters: 

"  I  think  my  father  is  in  no  condition  to  remain 
at  King's  Lyndon,  but  I  can't  let  him  go  up  to  Lon- 
don. It  seems  to  me,  the  best  thing  is  to  take  him 
over  to  Barleywood,  where  Dr.  Rolfe  will  be  near 
and  I  can  see  him  twice  a  day.  Reyburn  will  go 
with  him  and  take  the  best  care  of  him.  My  mind 
will  then  be  quite  at  rest." 

"  The  plan  seems  good  to  me,"  answered  Fermor, 
"  I  know  you  could  not  be  happy  unless  you  were 
near  your  father  in  his  present  state,  so  if  Rolfe 
consents,  we  can  take  Mr.  Seymour  over  this 
morning." 

At  that  moment  Dr.  Rolfe  entered  and  approved 
highly  of  the  plan. 

"  We  can  never  quite  tell  about  patients  in  Mr. 
Seymour's  condition,"  he  said,  "  but  he  must  have 
rest  and  quiet,  and  he  will  not  have  either  unless  he 
knows  Lady  Fermor  is  near  him." 

When  Theodora  proposed  the  plan  to  her  father 


GOD    AND    MANY   MEN  333 

telling  him  that  a  large  party  was  expected  at 
King's  Lyndon,  he  agreed  at  once.  He  made  no  al- 
lusion to  the  painful  disclosures  of  the  last  few  days, 
and  both  Theodora  and  Fermor  suspected  that  he 
had  no  memory  of  them.  Theodora  and  Fermor 
drove  with  him  in  an  open  carriage  to  Barleywood. 
It  was  a  pretty  little  place,  and  Seymour  seemed  in- 
finitely pleased  at  being  there,  and  near  Theodora. 
The  day,  like  the  preceding  one,  was  wet  and  gloomy, 
but  Theodora's  spirits  were  much  improved.  If  her 
father  had  been  really  ill,  she  felt  it  impossible  that 
she  could  have  carried  through  the  gaieties  of  the 
house  party  as  planned,  and  yet  to  have  postponed 
them  would  have  been  a  detriment  to  Fermor. 

And  Fermor's  interests,  as  well  as  Fermor  him- 
self, were  first  in  the  heart  of  Theodora. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

THE  HONOURS  OF  KING'S  LYNDON 

THE  guests  were  to  arrive  by  train,  between  four 
and  six  o'clock,  but  Lord  Castlemaine  came  down 
by  the  noon  train  from  London  in  time  for  luncheon. 

Theodora  received  him  pleasantly  and  cordially, 
but  her  air  of  making  a  graceful  concession  secretly 
amused  Lord  Castlemaine.  He  had  never  imagined 
himself  placed  in  the  position  of  being  amiably  tol- 
erated. 

At  luncheon,  Lord  Castlemaine  discussed  the 
political  condition  in  the  division  since  Fermor's 
election. 

"  It  is  the  most  bigot-ridden  division  in  England," 
he  said,  "  and  that  is  saying  a  great  deal.  Do  you 
know,  I  bought  a  local  newspaper  at  the  station, 
and  there  was  a  long  editorial  pitching  into  you  for 
going  to  the  Good  Friday  services  in  the  Roman 
Catholic  church  with  your  wife.  If  you  were  an 
esoteric  Buddhist  none  of  the  dissenting  and  church 
people  in  the  division  would  mind  it  in  the  least ;  but 
they  are  still  thinking  about  the  Popish  Plot  down 
here  and  the  Scarlet  Woman  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing." 

Theodora's  face  flushed,  but  good  sense  restrained 
her  from  saying  anything. 

334 


HONOURS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON      335 

"  The  editorial  goes  on  to  say  that  you  went  up 
to  the  communion  rail  with  your  wife  and  that  you 
were  probably,  at  this  moment,  in  the  hands  of  an 
emissary  of  the  Jesuits." 

Fermor  smiled.  He  was  prepared  for  misunder- 
standings and  misrepresentation.  Lord  Castlemaine 
felt  that  he  had  got  even  with  Theodora  for  what 
he  considered  her  impertinence  to  him.  The  con- 
versation then  turned  upon  public  affairs  and  the 
naval  resources  of  Great  Britain. 

"  We  are  paying  the  penalty  of  our  folly  of  forty 
years  ago  in  not  recognising  the  South  in  your  civil 
war,"  he  said  to  Theodora.  "  That  would  have  ab- 
solutely divided  the  United  States  and  reduced  you 
to  the  level  of  an  aggregate  of  revolutionary  re- 
publics. As  it  is,  the  United  States  has  become  the 
bully  of  the  world.  The  one  satisfaction  we  can 
get  out  of  it  is  that  the  women  from  there  bully  the 
men  to  an  extent  never  seen  before  in  the  world." 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  joke,  especially  as  Lord 
Castlemaine  had  always  dwelt  upon  the  fact  that 
Fermor  had  been  very  successfully  bullied  from  the 
beginning  by  Theodora  and  her  father.  It  was  not, 
however,  in  Lord  Castlemaine's  power  to  bring  a  re- 
tort from  Theodora,* and  she  took  his  gibes  with  pro- 
voking serenity. 

At  four  o'clock,  Theodora,  after  having  taken  a 
final  survey  of  the  rooms  prepared  in  the  bachelors' 
wing  and  the  state  suite  for  the  Prime  Minister  and 
his  wife  and  the  bedrooms  for  the  other  guests,  came 


down  the  stairs  to  be  ready  to  receive  them.  Fer- 
mor  and  Lord  Castlemaine  were  standing  in  the 
great  hall  where  a  fire  blazing  in  the  vast  hearth 
made  the  dull  day  bright.  When  Theodora  stepped 
down  the  grand  staircase,  her  soft  white  gown  trail- 
ing on  the  crimson  carpet  which  deadened  her  light 
footfall,  her  quick  glance  caught  sight  of  her 
father  huddled  in  a  chair  at  the  end  of  the  hall.  Lord 
Castlemaine  was  saying  angrily  to  Fermor: 

"  This  is  arrant  nonsense.  The  fellow's  mind  is 
gone,  and  to  have  him  here  now  is  not  only  ridicu- 
lous, but  shameful.  He  ought  to  be  under  restraint." 

At  that  moment  Seymour  rose  and  tottered  for- 
ward, and  laid  his  arm  appealingly  on  Fermor's. 

"  Don't  turn  me  out,"  he  pleaded,  "  I  want  to  be 
with  my  daughter.  Something  I  know  is  wrong  with 
my  brain,  but  if  I  am  under  the  same  roof  with  her, 
she  can  keep  me  quiet.  It  is  so  cold  at  Barleywood 
and  so  lonely." 

Fermor  took  Seymour  kindly  by  the  arm  and  said : 

"  You  shall  not  be  turned  out." 

Lord  Castlemaine's  face  became  a  deep  purple 
and  he  said  furiously  to  Fermor: 

"  So  you  propose  to  entertain  with  the  Prime 
Minister,  a  man  out  of  his  head,  who  is  a  criminal 
besides !  That,  together  with  your  subservience  to 
your  wife  in  religious  matters,  will  not  make  you  a 
very  valuable  acquisition  to  your  party  in  the 
House." 

Fermor's  face  flushed  deeply  and  father  and  son 


HONOURS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON      337 

looked  each  other  in  the  eyes  with  an  antagonism 
which  was  almost  enmity. 

Theodora  had  sped  down  the  stairs,  and  her  father 
on  seeing  her  uttered  a  cry  of  joy  and  almost  fell 
into  her  arms.  Then  Reyburn  suddenly  appeared. 

"  I  couldn't  keep  him  back,  sir,"  she  said  breath- 
lessly. "We  watched  him  all  we  could  and  I  even 
tried  to  hold  him  when  he  broke  away  from  me,  and 
we  didn't  know  where  he  had  gone  for  half  an  hour, 
and  then  I  got  in  the  pony  cart  and  came  here." 

Fermor  taking  Seymour  by  one  arm,  while  Theo- 
dora held  him  tenderly  by  the  other,  with  Reyburn 
following,  they  carried  him  upstairs  to  the  room 
in  the  clock  tower,  the  most  remote  and  secluded  in 
the  house.  Seymour,  meanwhile,  became  perfectly 
quiet  and  tractable  and  agreed  to  remain  quietly  with 
Reyburn  in  the  clock  tower  room. 

As  Fermor  and  Theodora  went  out  of  the  room, 
they  met  Dr.  Rolfe  hurrying  along  the  corridor. 

"  I  went  over  to  Barleywood  to  see  Mr.  Sey- 
mour," he  said,  "  and  found  that  he  was  missing, 
and  they  thought  he  had  come  here,  as  I  find  he  has." 

Dr.  Rolfe  went  into  Seymour's  room  while  Fermor 
and  Theodora  remained  outside.  Theodora  was 
trembling  with  excitement.  The  condition  of  her 
father,  the  apprehension  that  she  was  injuring  her 
husband,  and  anger  against  Lord  Castlemaine,  all 
struggled  within  her,  and  she  expressed  this  in 
broken  words  to  Fermor.  If  she  had  ever  felt  a 
doubt  of  his  love  before,  it  would  have  vanished  then. 


338     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Fermor  realised  all  that  was  passing  in  her  heart, 
and  all  he  desired  was  that  she  should  have  the 
strength  to  go  through  the  three  days  before  her. 
At  any  moment  the  first  instalment  of  guests  might 
arrive. 

In  a  moment  or  two,  Dr.  Rolfe  came  out. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Seymour  will  be  per- 
fectly quiet  as  long  as  Lady  Fermor  is  near  him. 
He  has  undoubtedly  had  a  slight  stroke,  from  which 
he  may  recover  entirely,  or  another  may  follow.  We 
cannot  tell.  We  must  keep  him  quiet  and  satisfied, 
and  Lady  Fermor  is  the  only  person  who  can  do 
that.  I  am  coming  to  see  him  twice  a  day  for  the 
present." 

It  was  then  time  for  Fermor  to  go  to  the  station 
to  meet  the  Prime  Minister.  Theodora  remained  in 
her  father's  room,  watching  Seymour  quietly  dozing, 
until  the  sound  of  wheels  upon  the  gravel  was  heard. 
Then  she  descended  to  the  hall,  where  she  received 
her  guests,  the  first  to  arrive  being  the  Prime 
Minister. 

Much  curiosity  had  been  felt  by  those  of  the  in- 
vited guests,  who  had  never  met  Theodora,  as  to 
Fermor's  American  wife.  The  result  of  the  first  after- 
noon and  dinner  and  evening  afterward,  was  of  a 
mixed  character.  There  could  not  be  the  slightest 
doubt  of  Theodora's  grace,  charm  and  exquisite 
gowns,  but  she  was  entirely  too  self-possessed.  She 
had  the  air  of  having  been  born  to  her  position,  in- 
stead of  having  acquired  it,  and  she  lacked  that 


HONOURS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON      339 

deprecatory  spirit  of  an  Englishwoman  who  shows 
her  gratitude  for  her  elevation. 

The  ladies  found  her  "  singular,"  as  they  con- 
ferred together  in  their  boudoirs  at  midnight.  She 
had  not,  even  at  dinner,  appeared  in  any  jewels,  al- 
though it  was  supposed  she  had  many  splendid  ones, 
and  the  Castlemaine  family  jewels  were  good  ones. 
There  was  no  doubt  that  she  was  immensely  success- 
ful with  the  men,  which  did  not  conduce  to  her  popu- 
larity with  the  women.  Jane  Battle  was  the  excep- 
tion, for  she  admired  Theodora,  and  even  loved  her. 

But  if  Lady  Fermor  were  "  singular,"  Dot  Wynd- 
ham,  the  only  other  American  among  the  women 
kind,  was  ten  times  more  so.  Dot  treated  Jack 
Thornycroft,  whose  adoration  was  open  and  un- 
ashamed, with  a  degree  of  haughtiness  almost  sac- 
rilegious toward  the  heir  to  a  baronetcy.  She  con- 
trived to  attach  herself  to  the  Prime  Minister  after 
dinner,  to  the  amazement  of  all  the  British  matrons 
present,  and  although  the  Prime  Minister  hated  the 
United  States  as  all  Prime  Ministers  do,  he  found 
himself  beguiled  by  this  nineteen-year-old,  who 
frankly  preferred  statesmen  to  guardsmen. 

Lord  Castlemaine  confidently  expected  an  exhibi- 
tion of  temper  or  coldness  on  Theodora's  part  to- 
ward himself,  but  was  somewhat  staggered  to  find 
her  all  grace  and  sweetness.  He  began  to  have  a 
glimmer  of  why  it  was  Theodora  had  carried  things 
so  irresistibly,  not  with  a  high  hand,  but  with  a  gen- 
tle hand  as  far  as  Fermor  went.  She  had  clearly 


340    THE   MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

carried  her  point  with  regard  to  her  father,  who,  at 
that  moment,  was  in  the  tower  room.  Lord  Castle- 
maine  heard  Theodora  calmly  explain  to  the  Prime 
Minister  that  her  father  had  not  been  well  for  sev- 
eral days,  and  therefore  would  keep  his  room. 

The  Prime  Minister  received  this  serene  announce- 
ment with  equal  composure.  He  was  prepared  for 
any  sensational  development  where  Americans  were 
concerned.  He  disliked  them  cordially,  but  he  was 
a  statesman  and  had  made  it  a  point  during  his 
whole  political  career  never  to  offend  them. 

At  midnight,  when  the  guests  had  separated,  Fer- 
mor  went  to  Theodora's  boudoir.  She  had  just  re- 
turned from  her  father's  room  and  had  seen  him 
sleeping  quietly.  The  strain  of  the  day  had  been 
great  and  she  was  lying  back  in  a  great  chair,  pale 
and  dejected,  but  with  unabated  courage.  Her  even- 
ing gown,  a  splendid  creation  in  blue  and  gold, 
seemed  at  odds  with  her  pallor  and  sadness.  She 
rose  and  threw  herself  into  Fermor's  arms  and 
thanked  him,  as  only  a  woman  can,  for  his  unfailing 
support  during  that  trying  day.  Fermor  felt  a 
sense  of  triumph.  This  fearless  creature  who  de- 
fied Lord  Castlemaine  and  met  as  an  equal  the  Prime 
Minister,  whose  family  had  held  power  since  Agin- 
court  and  Poictiers,  showed  to  him  the  sweetest 
gratitude,  the  tenderest  affection.  He  could  not 
exactly  call  it  deference,  but  one  does  not  look  for 
deference  from  a  woman  who  has  been  taught  her 
sovereignty  from  the  beginning. 


HONOURS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON      341 

Theodora  assured  Fermor  that  she  was  in  no  way 
forgetful  of  his  interests. 

"  I  know  what  it  means,  those  terrible  newspaper 
stories,"  she  said,  laying  her  cheek  against  her  hus- 
band's. "  Ever  since  Lord  Castlemaine  told  me  about 
my  father,  it  has  been  like  a  knife  in  my  heart  that 
I  have  done  you  more  harm  than  good.  I  would  die 
rather  than  harm  you." 

What  could  any  man  who  loved  a  woman  like  Theo- 
dora say  to  such  words?  It  was  true  that  she  might 
have  harmed  him  politically  and  temporarily,  but  she 
had  bestowed  upon  him  the  glorious  treasure  of  her 
love ;  she  had  restored  to  him  the  place  he  loved  with 
an  Englishman's  passionate  attachment  to  the  land ; 
she  had  recreated  for  him  the  splendour  of  woman- 
hood, which  had  been  lowered  by  his  knowledge  of 
Flora  Bellenden.  He  had  sometimes  thought  that 
if  his  mother  had  possessed  half  of  Theodora's  quiet 
courage,  her  own  life  would  not  have  been  marred  as 
it  had  been,  by  Lord  Castlemaine.  In  short,  Fermor 
was  something  more  than  in  love  with  Theodora.  He 
saw,  embodied  in  her,  the  ideal  womanhood  of  which 
his  mother  was  a  pale  and  negative  shadow.  Theo- 
dora had  her  faults,  her  foibles,  her  wilful  ways,  her 
stubborn  resolution,  but  her  faults  were  chiefly  the  de- 
fects of  her  qualities.  And,  moreover,  his  American 
wife  was  in  all  things  clearly  an  unknown  quantity. 
This  did  not  make  her  the  less  interesting. 

The  next  day  embraced  the  well-ordered  programme 
of  a  large  party  in  a  great  house.  It  was  Easter 


342     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Sunday,  and  Theodora  attended  the  services  in  the 
little  church  at  Hillborough,  returning  before  most 
of  the  guests  had  stirred  in  their  beds. 

Fermor  accompanied  the  Prime  Minister  to  the 
parish  church,  which  was  crowded.  The  newspaper 
stories  had  not  been  without  their  effect,  and  Fermor 
was  made  to  feel  in  some  way  a  loss  of  popularity ; 
the  Prime  Minister,  however,  was  greeted  with  the  ut- 
most cordiality.  Lord  Castlemaine  did  not  trouble 
himself  to  go  to  church,  nor  to  seek  the  society  of  his 
daughter-in-law.  Theodora  was  glad  of  the  oppor- 
tunity to  be  with  her  father,  who  was  now  able  to  be 
dressed  and  to  walk  about  his  room.  His  memory, 
however,  was  still  subject  to  strange  lapses.  Some- 
times he  recalled  Theodora's  marriage  and  again 
thought  himself  still  master  of  King's  Lyndon.  Rey- 
burn,  with  her  usual  taciturn  devotion,  remained 
with  him  and  could  exercise  an  influence  second  only 
to  Theodora's. 

At  two  o'clock,  luncheon  was  served  in  the  great 
dining-hall.  The  ringing  of  the  courtyard  bell  sum- 
moned those  who  were  loitering  in  the  grounds,  among 
others,  Jane  Battle  and  Jack  Thornycroft.  Both 
looked  radiant,  and  Jane  whispered  to  Theodora  as 
they  met  in  the  hall: 

"  Jack  has  proposed  four  times  to  Dot  Wyndham, 
so  mamma  can  have  nothing  more  to  say  about  that 
match  for  me." 

Just  as  the  party  was  assembled  in  the  dining-hall 
and  Theodora  was  about  to  take  her  seat  with  the 


HONOURS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON      343 

Prime  Minister  on  her  right,  the  door  at  the  farther 
end  opened  and  Seymour  entered.  He  looked  per- 
fectly well  and  clear-headed;  was  scrupulously 
dressed  and,  approaching  Theodora,  said  to  her  in 
his  natural  voice: 

"  I  felt  so  much  better  to-day,  my  dear,  that  I 
determined  to  give  myself  the  pleasure  of  appearing 
at  luncheon." 

A  terrible  silence  fell  upon  all.  Theodora  felt  that 
every  eye  was  fixed  upon  her,  but  above  all,  Lord 
Castlemaine's  with  a  savage  mixture  of  fury  and 
laughter.  It  was  one  of  the  most  agitating  moments 
of  Theodora's  life  and  a  moment  when  only  courage 
could  save  her.  She  spoke  calmly  and  affectionately 
to  her  father,  introduced  him  to  the  Prime  Minister, 
who  stood  not  two  feet  way,  his  hand  on  the  back  of 
the  chair.  There  was  no  place  for  Seymour  at  the 
table,  but  Theodora's  eye  sought  Wyndham's.  The 
next  instant  Wyndham  melted  away,  as  it  were,  and 
Seymour  took  his  place.  Then  every  one  sat  down 
and  conversation  began  with  nervous  briskness. 

Jane  Battle  sat  next  Seymour  and  earned  Theo- 
dora's and  Fermor's  eternal  gratitude  by  the  tact 
she  showed  in  engaging  Seymour's  attention.  In  the 
confused  state  of  Seymour's  mind,  any  moment  might 
produce  a  catastrophe,  but  none  occurred.  It  was  so 
much  Seymour's  habit  to  remain  in  the  background 
that  his  quiet  effacement  of  himself  was  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world. 

The  Prime  Minister,  whom  neither  a  long  lease  of 


344     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

power  nor  cordial  dislike  of  Americans  had  wholly 
robbed  of  his  kindness  of  heart,  felt  a  real  sympathy 
for  Theodora.  He  thought  Fermor  very  unwise  in 
permitting  Seymour's  presence  at  King's  Lyndon, 
but  concluded  that  Theodora  had  simply  befooled  her 
husband  into  permitting  Seymour,  an  escaped  con- 
vict, to  appear  at  King's  Lyndon,  and  felt  a  curious 
sensation  at  sitting  at  the  same  table  with  him.  But 
out  of  pure  pity  for  Theodora,  the  Prime  Minister 
went  up  to  Seymour  after  luncheon  was  over,  and 
made  a  civil  inquiry  about  his  health.  To  this  Sey- 
mour replied  quite  rationally.  Then,  catching  sight 
of  Lord  Castlemaine,  Seymour  went  up  to  him  as  if 
to  speak,  but  Lord  Castlemaine  deliberately  turned 
his  back  and  walked  off  in  another  direction.  Fer- 
mor came  up  and,  taking  Seymour  by  the  arm,  led 
him  away. 

The  day  was  calm  and  bright  and  the  men  were 
to  smoke  out  on  the  terrace.  Theodora  went  up  to 
the  Prime  Minister  and  said  with  a  tremulous  smile: 

"Will  you  come  into  the  conservatory  and  let  me 
show  you  my  Easter  lilies?  Don't  throw  away  your 
cigar,  I  will  allow  you  to  smoke." 

The  Prime  Minister  agreed.  He  was  magnanimous 
toward  this  injudicious  woman,  who,  he  consid- 
ered, would  wreck  the  interests  of  his  party  in  that 
division  of  Middlandshire,  and  he  went  with  her 
cheerfully  enough.  When  they  had  traversed  the 
long,  warm  glass  gallery,  brilliant  with  sunshine  and 
heavy  with  the  perfume  of  flowers,  they  came  to  the 


HONOURS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON      345 

farther  end  where  under  darkened  glass  a  mass  of 
palms  made  a  green  solitude.  Theodora  suddenly 
turned  to  the  Prime  Minister  and,  putting  her  hand 
impulsively  in  his,  said  to  him : 

"  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  enough  for  what  you 
did  to-day!  I  know  all  about  the  terrible  stories 
printed  about  my  father.  He  is  an  innocent  man,  and 
that  will  be  proved  when  all  the  circumstances  are 
known.  Much  as  I  love  him,  I  did  not  mean  to  have 
him  here,  but  his  memory  has  been  shattered  in  the 
last  few  days,  and  he  does  not  seem  always  to  know 
what  he  is  doing." 

The  Prime  Minister  was  not  the  man  to  disregard 
the  appeal  of  an  attractive  woman. 

"  I  feel  deep  sympathy  for  you.  I  admired  your 
self-possession,  and  you  may  count  on  me  as  a 
friend." 

As  the  Prime  Minister  said  this,  he  felt  an  inward 
chuckle  of  amusement  at  himself.  How  great  is  the 
power  of  a  charming  woman !  He  reflected  if  he  were 
married  to  Theodora,  he  might  prove  as  great  a  fool 
as  he  reckoned  Fermor  to  be.  Of  course  the  old  man 
should  have  been  securely  kept  away  from  the  house ; 
Fermor  should  never  have  accompanied  Theodora  to 
the  Roman  Catholic  church,  and  she  should  assume 
the  English  attitude  of  feeling  honoured  by  her  al- 
liance to  the  House  of  Castelmaine,  and  it  was  very 
plain  that  she  was  not.  But  in  spite  of  these  lapses, 
the  Prime  Minister  forgave  Theodora  because  she  was 
so  charming. 


346     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

When  the  Prime  Minister  and  Theodora  reap- 
peared upon  the  terrace  in  deep  and  amicable  con- 
versation, Lord  Castlemaine's  grim  reflection  was 
that  the  Prime  Minister  had  been  very  successfully 
bamboozled  by  Theodora's  dark  eyes.  Theodora 
spoke  to  Lord  Castlemaine  naturally  and  politely, 
but  Lord  Castlemaine  had  a  very  true  suspicion  that 
matters  were  by  no  means  settled  between  them. 

When  Theodora  went  upstairs  before  tea  time, 
Reyburn,  anxious  and  remorseful,  met  her  outside 
of  Seymour's  room. 

"  He  was  sitting  in  his  chair,  dressed  and  reading 
as  quiet  as  may  be,  ma'am,  and  I  went  out  of  the 
room  just  for  one  moment  and  he  slipped  away  by  the 
other  door.  Before  I  could  find  him  he  was  down- 
stairs. But  it  shan't  happen  any  more,  that  I  prom- 
ise you." 

"  I  am  sure  it  was  not  your  fault,  Reyburn,"  said 
Theodora,  "  but  pray  don't  let  it  happen  again,  on 
Lord  Fermor's  account.  He  behaved  most  kindly, 
but  of  course  it  was  very  painful  to  him." 

Reyburn,  who  would  have  laid  down  her  life  for 
Fermor,  responded  to  this  appeal.  The  story  of 
Lord  Castlemaine  turning  his  back  on  Seymour  had 
got  into  the  servants'  hall.  Reyburn,  in  her  sombre 
soul,  hated  Lord  Castlemaine,  and  was  an  ardent  par- 
tisan of  Lady  Fermor  and  her  father. 

"  My  husband  came  up  to  see  me  just  now,"  she 
continued,  "  and  he  said  as  how  some  people  in  the 
market  town  was "  Reyburn  stopped,  her  posi- 


HONOURS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON      347 

tion  as  an  upper  servant  and  her  passionate  devotion 
to  Lord  Fermor  at  odds.  "  Go  on,"  said  Theodora, 
authoritatively,  "  what  did  your  husband  tell  you 
the  people  were  saying?  " 

"Well,  ma'am,  as  you  directs  me  to  tell,  I'll  say 
as  my  husband  says,  some  people  are  down  on  Lord 
Fermor  on  account  of  what  the  newspapers  is  hinting 
about  Mr.  Seymour  and  his  being  here  now.  But 
others  said  as  how  Mr.  Seymour  was  a  good  man  and 
it  was  right  for  you,  ma'am,  and  Lord  Fermor,  to 
stand  by  him.  Reyburn  has  a  meeting  to-day  of 
the  factory  hands,  and  he  is  going  to  speak  about 
the  Prime  Minister  speaking  to  Mr.  Seymour,  and 
Lord  Castlemaine " 

Reyburn  stopped.  She  had  not  acquired  her  hus- 
band's habit  of  speech  concerning  great  people,  and 
Theodora  knew  the  grudge  that  this  woman  had 
cherished  for  thirty-five  years  against  the  father  of 
her  nursling. 

Nothing  escaped  Fermor,  and  Theodora's  civility 
to  his  father  and  the  undoubted  good  will  of  the 
Prime  Minister  toward  her,  assured  him  that  every- 
thing would  go  smoothly  during  the  momentous  visit. 
He  said  this  to  Theodora  the  first  time  they  were 
alone  together  in  the  evening  before  dinner.  He  was 
becoming  acquainted  with  a  new  phase  of  his  wife's 
character  and  got  a  view  of  certain  characteristics, 
which  he  very  promptly  classed  as  national  charac- 
teristics. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  she  said,  with  a  kind  of  soft 


348     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

haughtiness  which  was  peculiarly  hers,  "  that  any- 
thing Lord  Castlemaine  could  say  or  do  would  dis- 
compose me  in  our  own  house  ?  " 

"  Men  and  women  are  usually  afraid  of  my  father," 
replied  Fermor,  smiling ;  "  he  acknowledges  very  few 
restraints." 

"  People  who  don't  acknowledge  restraints  should 
be  treated  as  children,"  said  Theodora.  Then  the 
husband  and  wife  talked  together  frankly  and  with 
mutual  sympathy  of  the  strange  and  embarrassing 
incidents  of  the  day,  which  had  turned  out  better 
than  either  could  hope.  Theodora  told  Fermor  what 
Reyburn  had  said  concerning  the  sentiment  about 
Seymour  and  themselves,  and  Fermor  seemed  grati- 
fied. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

THE  HOSTS  OF  KING'S  LYNDON 

IN  the  evening,  Theodora,  having  dressed  early, 
went  down  into  the  drawing-room  where  her  guests 
were  to  assemble.  Lord  Castlemaine  was  there  in 
advance  of  her.  As  usual,  Theodora  wore  few  orna- 
ments, and  on  her  black  hair  was  a  coronet  of  violets 
with  their  fresh  green  leaves  and  a  wreath  of  violets 
extended  across  the  front  of  her  bodice. 

Lord  Castlemaine,  who  was  standing  by  the  fire- 
place as  Theodora  came  up,  asked  promptly: 

"  Why  don't  you  wear  some  diamonds,  like  the 
other  women?  This  would  be  a  very  proper  oc- 
casion to  wear  the  Castlemaine  necklace  and  tiara." 

"  I  don't  think  jewels  suit  my  style,"  replied 
Theodora  calmly.  "  They  are  not  really  becoming 
to  many  women.  They  suit  the  large  English  type 
better  than  any  other." 

"  True,"  replied  Lord  Castlemaine,  "  the  insignifi- 
cant American  figure  and  features  do  not  suit  tiaras, 
but  now  that  you  are  an  Englishwoman,  you  ought 
to  follow  English  customs." 

This  onslaught  did  not  discompose  Theodora. 

"  I  do,"  she  replied,  "  but  a  woman's  dress  is  too 
strictly  personal  to  be  governed  by  any  rule." 

349 


350    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

"  It  is  a  species  of  snub  to  the  other  women  that 
you  should  not  wear  jewels,  and  particularly  family 
jewels." 

Lord  Castlemaine  was  growing  fiercer  in  his  eye 
and  grin. 

"  When  Lord  Fermor  requests  it,  then  it  will  be 
time  enough,"  was  Theodora's  answer  in  a  tone  of 
chilling  sweetness. 

"  Of  course,"  continued  Lord  Castlemaine,  de- 
termined to  quarrel  with  his  daughter-in-law,  "  you 
can  hardly  get  the  English  view  of  family  jewels,  as 
they  are  unknown  in  America." 

To  this  Theodora  made  no  reply,  and  Lord  Castle- 
maine felt  himself  a  deeply  injured  man.  Yet,  his 
words  were  not  without  their  effect,  and  as  Fermor 
entered  the  room  at  that  moment,  Theodora  said 
to  him  pleasantly: 

"  Do  you  think  it  would  be  in  better  taste  if  I 
should  wear  the  family  jewels  to-morrow  night  at 
the  ball?  " 

"  I  think  perhaps  it  would  be  better,"  replied 
Fermor. 

"  Then,"  said  Theodora,  "  as  it  really  makes  no 
difference  to  me,  I  will  wear  them.  But  I  don't  care 
in  the  least  for  them."  Then  she  added  with  a  de- 
mure smile :  "  As  Lord  Castlemaine  says,  tiaras  are 
not  really  suited  to  the  insignificant  American  figure 
and  features,"  and  Theodora  actually  laughed  as 
she  spoke. 

Fennor  was  as  much  struck  with  the  novelty  of 


HOSTS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON         351 

Theodora's  view  as  Lord  Castlemaine  himself  was, 
but  had  greater  indulgence  for  it. 

On  Monday  the  great  political  meeting  in  the 
market  town  was  held.  Theodora  had  followed,  ac- 
cording to  Fermor's  wishes,  the  old-fashioned  idea  of 
attending  the  meeting  with  all  the  state  of  her  posi- 
tion. The  weather  continued  bright  and  balmy  and 
the  procession  of  carriages  and  motors  made  a 
brave  appearance  in  the  thronged  streets  of  the 
quaint  old  town.  Theodora  drove  in  a  splendid 
open  landau,  finely  horsed.  The  Prime  Minister  sat 
by  her  side  and  Fermor  opposite.  Lord  Castlemaine 
would  have  been  very  well  pleased  to  have  occupied 
the  fourth  seat,  but  was  not  invited  to  do  so. 

Theodora  wore  Fermor's  colours,  violet  and  white, 
and  carried  a  great  bouquet  of  purple  and  white 
violets.  Her  reception  by  the  people  was  not  alto- 
gether cordial.  When  she  took  her  seat  with  the 
other  ladies  of  the  party  on  the  platform  of  the  town 
hall,  she  was  loudly  applauded  from  the  section  of 
the  gallery  which  was  filled  with  socialists  come  to 
boo,  rather  than  to  listen.  This  did  not  add  to  the 
warmth  of  her  greeting.  The  Prime  Minister  spoke 
well  and  forcibly  and  was  loudly  cheered.  Fermor 
followed  him  in  an  address  which  amazed  and  grati- 
fied his  supporters.  He  was  reckoned  a  man  of 
ability,  but  his  life  until  a  few  months  before  had 
been  spent  in  a  way  not  calculated  to  show  or  even 
develop  his  abilities.  He  proved  himself  to  possess 
the  power  of  thinking  while  standing  on  his  feet,  and 


352     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

his  address  was  convincing,  strong  and  was  arranged 
and  delivered  in  a  masterly  manner. 

The  Prime  Minister  pricked  up  his  ears.  Here 
was  a  man  who  would  undoubtedly  develop  that  rare 
and  valuable  power  of  carrying  a  legislative  assem- 
bly with  him. 

Theodora  sat  listening  to  her  husband,  the  colour 
stealing  into  her  delicate  face.  Her  pride  was  grati- 
fied, her  natural  love  of  distinction  pleased.  When 
Fermor  concluded,  he  was  greeted  with  tremendous 
cheering,  not  only  from  the  socialistic  element  which 
was  a  source  of  real  weakness  to  him,  but  from  all 
present.  The  Prime  Minister  shook  hands  with  him 
amidst  a  roar  of  applause.  Lord  Castlemaine  did 
the  same,  and  there  was  some  laughter  and  booing. 

Then  the  party  left  the  platform,  Theodora  es- 
corted by  the  Prime  Minister,  and  made  their  way 
through  the  cheering  crowd  to  the  equipages. 
Theodora  was  greeted  far  more  warmly  than  when 
she  arrived,  and  bowed  right  and  left,  smiling  her 
thanks.  The  same  cheers  accompanied  them  as  they 
drove  back  through  the  town.  Once  in  the  country 
roadway,  the  Prime  Minister  said  earnestly  to 
Fermor : 

"  Believe  me,  my  congratulations  were  sincere. 
Much  as  I  expected  of  you,  I  may  say  that  you 
have  really  surprised  me,"  and  then  turning  to  Theo- 
dora he  asked,  smiling,  "  Can  you  not  say  the  same 
to  Lord  Fermor  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Theodora ;  "  nothing  Lord  Fermor 


HOSTS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON         353 

can  do  in  the  way  of  acquitting  himself  well,  can  ever 
surprise  me." 

The  Prime  Minister  thought  this  a  very  pretty 
speech,  but  he  was  of  the  opinion  that  a  steady- 
going  Englishwoman  would  have  been  better,  po- 
litically, for  Fermor  than  this  charming  American 
who  seemed  to  go  instinctively  the  wrong  way. 

That  night  there  was  a  splendid  ball  at  King's 
Lyndon.  It  was  a  very  general  affair,  meant  as 
the  introduction  of  the  Fermors  once  more  as  social 
and  political  factors  in  that  division  of  Midland- 
shire. 

The  ball  had  a  distinctly  political  complexion  and 
embraced  not  only  persons  of  the  highest  rank,  but 
extended  to  many  who  had  never  before  received  an 
invitation  to  a  great  house.  The  only  certainty 
about  a  ball  is  the  amount  of  the  cost;  its  success 
appears  to  be  governed  by  inscrutable  forces.  The 
King's  Lyndon  ball  was  from  the  beginning  a  splen- 
did success.  In  addition  to  the  magnificent  suite  of 
rooms,  fine  music,  a  gorgeous  supper  and  a  large  and 
distinguished  attendance,  dancing  went  with  a  swing, 
and  the  spirit  of  gaiety  prevailed.  The  host  and 
hostess  received  with  the  utmost  cordiality.  Theo- 
dora had  carefully  studied  the  personnel  of  the  ball, 
and  managed  to  have  something  appropriate  to 
say,  with  her  natural  grace,  to  every  person  present. 

An  American  woman  in  such  a  position  was  a 
novelty  to  nine-tenths  of  those  present.  They  were 
all  conscious  of  the  difference  in  dress,  looks,  man- 


ner,  accent  and  power  between  the  American  and 
the  Englishwoman,  but  there  was  no  doubt  of  Theo- 
dora's capacity  to  please.  She  wore  the  Castlemaine 
tiara  and  necklace  and  made  Fermor  laugh  by  saying 
resignedly : 

"  I  don't  look  so  badly  in  them,  after  all." 

Jack  Thornycroft  and  Wyndham  were  indefatiga- 
ble in  dancing  and  also  in  providing  partners  for 
girls  to  whom  a  partner  was  a  delightful  rarity. 
Dot  Wyndham  bore  herself  like  a  young  duchess. 
If  there  were  any  heavy  hearts  that  night,  they 
were  cleverly  disguised.  Such  was  the  case  with 
Lady  Fermor,  whose  heart,  under  her  laces  and  jewels, 
sometimes  had  a  painful  throb  while  she  smiled  and 
said  graceful  things  to  the  people  surrounding  her. 
The  thought  of  the  old  man  lying  in  the  tower  room 
and  watched  by  Reyburn,  haunted  the  daughter's 
heart. 

The  ball  was  not  over  until  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  When  the  house  was  finally  quiet,  the 
dawn  was  at  hand. 

After  luncheon,  on  that  day,  the  guests  all  left 
except  Lord  Castlemaine.  The  Prime  Minister,  on 
making  his  farewell,  said  with  much  sincerity  that 
he  had  enjoyed  his  visit.  His  secret  comment  was 
that  it  had  been  a  little  different  from  most  visits, 
and  he  wondered  how  much  Fermor's  marriage  would 
profit  him  personally  and  politically. 

Four  persons  had  found  happiness  at  King's  Lyn- 
don on  those  Easter  days — Jane  Battle  and  Wynd- 


HOSTS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON         355 

ham,  and  Jack  Thornycroft  and  Dot  Wjndham. 
Jane,  with  the  promptness  of  an  English  girl  in 
telling  of  an  offer  of  marriage,  slipped  into  Theo- 
dora's boudoir  before  breakfast  on  the  morning  the 
party  broke  up,  and  confided  joyfully  that  Wynd- 
ham  had  told  her  something  she  knew  already — 
that  he  loved  her. 

"  I  don't  know  what  papa  and  mamma  will  say," 
she  added,  "  but  Mr.  Wyndham  says  he  doesn't  care 
and  that  papa  may  keep  my  money  if  he  likes." 

Jack  Thornycroft  only  had  a  moment,  before 
luncheon,  to  tell  his  tale  of  joy. 

"  There's  luck  in  cold  numbers,"  he  said  to  Theo- 
dora in  a  corner  of  the  terrace,  with  many  persons 
in  sight.  "  It's  the  fifth  time  I've  asked  her,  and 
at  last  she  consented.  But  on  such  terms !  By 
Jove,  Lady  Fermor,  you'll  hardly  believe  it,  but  the 
engagement  is  to  be  kept  a  dead  secret,  and  I  am 
to  cross  the  Atlantic  to  fetch  her.  When  I  said,  as 
she  was  already  on  this  side,  the  wedding  might  as 
well  take  place  here,  I  thought  she  was  going  to 
murder  me  or  at  least  throw  me  over,  so  I  hastened 
to  back  down.  She  says  she  must  be  at  perfect 
liberty  to  deny  that  any  engagement  exists!  That 
seems  positively  immoral  to  me,  but  I  yielded  that 
point  too,  just  as  I  have  yielded  every  other." 

Much  to  Jack's  amazement,  Theodora  took  all 
these  things  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  declined  to  be 
surprised  at  anything. 

When  the  guests  were  all  gone,  Theodora  went 


356    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

upstairs  for  a  quiet  hour  with  her  father.  Seymour 
was  up  and  dressed  and  in  much  the  same  state  he 
had  been  for  some  days — perfectly  quiet  and  gen- 
erally rational,  but  showing  frequent  lapses  of 
memory.  It  was  nearly  four  o'clock  when  Theo- 
dora went  downstairs  and  out  for  a  walk.  Fermor 
was  hard  at  work  in  his  study,  and  Theodora  was 
not  sorry  for  an  hour  or  two  to  herself  after  the 
excitement  of  the  last  few  days. 

She  walked  through  the  yew  alley  to  the  orna- 
mental water,  and  followed  the  path  around  the 
lake.  The  spring  sun  was  on  its  descent  and  already 
the  shadows  were  growing  long,  and  the  birds  that 
nested  in  the  temple  at  the  head  of  the  lake  were  fly- 
ing about  the  eaves.  Theodora  seated  herself  on  a 
bench  to  enjoy  the  repose  of  the  afternoon.  In 
another  moment  she  heard  a  firm  step,  and  Lord 
Castlemaine's  tall  figure  approached  and  he  seated 
himself  by  her  side.  There  could  be  no  question  that 
Lady  Fermor  and  her  father-in-law  were  at  feud, 
although  Theodora  maintained  her  defensive  attitude 
with  smiling  grace,  and  Lord  Castlemaine  could  not 
forget  he  was  at  war  with  a  charming  woman.  He 
knew  very  well  that  the  strongest  weapon  Theodora 
had  was  the  fact  that  it  was  through  Seymour's 
money  King's  Lyndon  had  been  acquired  and  re- 
stored, and  this  weapon  was  one  she  could  not  use. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  are  alone,"  said  Lord  Castle- 
maine in  his  blandest  manner,  "  as  I  think  the  time 
has  come  for  plain  speaking.  The  presence  of  your 


HOSTS   OF    KING'S    LYNDON         357 

father  at  luncheon  day  before  yesterday  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  catastrophe.  You  can't  ask 
people  to  meet  and  sit  at  the  same  table  with  a  man 
who  has  done  time  in  prison.  That  is  the  simple 
truth  and  you  should  know  it.  You  must  keep  your 
father  at  a  safe  distance  and  avoid  having  anything 
to  do  with  him  outwardly,  or  you  will  ruin  Fermor." 

Lord  Castlemaine  expected  Theodora  to  show 
anger  at  his  words.  He  was  hardly  prepared,  how- 
ever, for  the  hot  indignation  which  blazed  from  her 
eyes. 

"  How  dare  you ! "  she  cried,  rising  to  her  feet, 
and  then  stopped  short.  Lord  Castlemaine  rose  too. 
He  had  at  last  made  her  throw  away  her  buckler  of 
calmness.  She  was  trembling  with  excitement,  and 
Lord  Castlemaine  followed  up  his  advantage. 

"  Of  course,  as  regards  your  religion,"  he  said, 
"  I  don't  give  a  damn  for  anybody's  bigotries,  but 
it's  harming  Fermor.  The  local  newspaper  on  Satur- 
day had  a  silly  but  very  mischievous  editorial 
about  Fermor  turning  Romanist,  and  next  day  it  was 
followed  by  an  article  which  plainly  pointed  to  Sey- 
mour as  an  escaped  convict.  But  there  is  some- 
thing else.  You  may  have  children.  Normally,  I 
would  wish  for  an  heir  to  this  place."  Lord  Castle- 
maine waved  his  hand  around  at  the  verdant  gardens, 
the  rich  park,  the  splendid  mansion  lying  fair  and 
still  in  the  afternoon  glow. 

"  But  the  heir  to  all  this  will  have  a  taint  in  his 
blood.  If  your  Fontarini  child  had  lived,  he  might 


358     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

have  proved  another  Pietro  Fontarini.  It  is  likely 
that  a  child  with  the  characteristics  of  your  father 
will  inherit  this  place.  For  my  part,  I  am  not  un- 
duly particular,  but  the  thought  of  your  children 
and  the  blood  they  will  inherit  is  not  very  pleasant 
to  me." 

As  Lord  Castlemaine  stopped  speaking,  he  thought 
Theodora  was  about  to  faint,  so  quickly  did  she 
grow  pale  and  sink,  rather  than  sit,  upon  the 
bench.  The  words  seemed  etched  in  fire  upon  her 
brain.  She  had  known  the  agony  of  looking  into 
the  innocent  eyes  of  a  child  and  wondering  if  the 
soul  of  a  felon  would  develop  in  that  child.  Lord 
Castlemaine,  having  done  the  mischief,  felt  a  kind  of 
pity  for  her  as  she  sat,  pale  and  trembling  and  wild- 
eyed.  But  this  was  not  a  question  to  be  settled 
by  an  impulse  of  pity.  He  cared  little  for  Fermor's 
political  future,  but  he  hated  getting  into  the  news- 
papers, and  he  had  a  real  and  intense  family  pride, 
which  made  all  he  said  to  Theodora  on  the  subject 
of  the  future  heir  of  King's  Lyndon,  have  the  force 
of  sincerity. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  sitting  down  by  her,  "  you  think 
me  your  enemy,  but  I  am  not.  I  know  that  you  are 
in  love  with  Fermor  and  Fermor  is  in  love  with  you, 
but  what  is  called  love,  is,  in  my  opinion,  merely 
a  phase.  It  sounds  well  enough  in  poetry  and  some- 
times has  an  historic  aspect  in  history.  But  it 
means  nothing.  I  never  allowed  any  woman  to  get 
a  hold  on  me.  Fermor  allowed  a  painted  Jezebel, 


HOSTS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON         359 

the  Bellenden  woman,  to  get  a  very  strong  hold  on 
his  purse,  but  I  don't  think  she  every  had  any  on  his 
heart.  You  women  never  believe  these  things.  You 
will  always  cling  to  that  superstition  of  love.  You 
are  going  mighty  near  to  ruining  Fermor  with  your 
quixotism  about  your  father  and  your  religious  fer- 
vour and  sacramental  marriage  and  all  that." 

It  was  some  minutes  before  Theodora  spoke.  Then 
she  said  in  a  low  voice: 

"  I  thought,  after  Pietro  Fontarini  died,  that  I 
should  never  again  have  any  man  to  insult  me.  You 
have  insulted  me  grossly." 

"  And  you  will  damage  Fermor  still  more  by  or- 
dering me  off  the  premises,"  replied  Lord  Castlemaine 
with  cheerful  good  humour. 

"  I  certainly  shall,"  replied  Theodora,  "  unless 
you  make  me  an  apology  and  agree  not  to  repeat 
the  offence." 

Lord  Castlemaine  looked  at  her,  his  wide,  handsome 
mouth  coming  open  in  a  broad  grin.  His  eyes 
were  still  fine  in  spite  of  their  leer,  his  figure  still 
imposing  in  spite  of  hard  living,  hard  drinking  and 
hard  working. 

"  I  daresay  I  have  offended  a  huge  lot  of  people 
in  the  course  of  a  long  and  ill-spent  life,"  he  said, 
"  and  apologies  have  often  been  demanded  of  me, 
but  no  one  ever  secured  one  out  of  me  yet.  How- 
ever, in  this  case,  considering  you  are  my  daughter- 
in-law  and  remarkably  attractive  and  very  deter- 
mined and  I  never  know  what  you  are  going  to  do 


360     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

next  in  your  highly  original  and  American  way  of 
managing  things,  I  will  apologise.  There!  I  ask 
your  pardon  and  agree  not  to  mention  the  subject 
again,  because  I  know  you  will  not  forget  what  I 
have  already  said." 

Lord  Castlemaine  walked  away  half  laughing, 
leaving  Theodora  still  sitting  on  the  bench.  De- 
spair seized  her.  Was  she  destined  to  bring  mis- 
fortune on  all  whom  she  loved,  and  if  children  were 
given  her,  were  they  to  carry  the  taint  with  them? 
She  earnestly  longed  and  hoped  and  prayed  for  chil- 
dren, but  she  recalled  now  that  strange  and  secret 
feeling  which  made  itself  felt  in  the  agony  of  her 
grief  for  her  child,  that  at  least  there  could  be  no 
repetition  of  Pietro  Fontarini.  But  from  the  storm 
of  emotion,  one  thought  arose  serene.  She  could 
never  abandon  her  father. 

Faithfulness  and  devotion  were  not  only  a  part 
of  her  nature.  They  were  her  nature.  She  recalled 
the  words  of  Cardinal  Fontarini  and  of  Ashburton, 
men  of  the  highest  ideals  and  clearest  outlook,  and 
they  had  sustained  her.  While  these  thoughts  were 
passing  through  her  mind,  she  heard  Fermor  calling 
her  name. 

"  Here  I  am,"  answered  Theodora,  rising  and  go- 
ing toward  him.  They  came  together  in  the  very 
spot  where  they  had  first  met  as  betrothed  six  months 
before.  Theodora's  pallor  and  agitation  were  plain 
to  Fermor,  and  he  took  her  hand,  saying: 

"  What  has  happened?  " 


HOSTS    OF    KING'S    LYNDON         361 

Theodora's  other  hand  closed  over  Fermor's. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  "  if  after  all,  that  I  have 
done  you  terrible  injury  by  marrying  you,  and  will 
continue  to  do  so  as  long  as  I  live?  I  would  rather 
die  than  do  you  an  injury.  But  when  I  am  asked  to 
give  up  my  father — can't  you  understand  that  I 
can't  give  up  the  best  father  that  any  child  has  ever 
had,  the  kindest  heart,  the  most  generous  man ! " 
She  stopped,  and  began  to  weep  silently. 

"  I  have  not  asked  you  to  give  him  up,  Theo- 
dora," replied  Fermor  gently.  "  It  is  not  in  you  to 
do  it,  that  I  know  very  well.  I  will  help  you  to  bear 
this.  It  would  be  idle  to  deny  that  the  story  will 
injure  us  both;  but  we  have  both  profited  by  your 
father's  generosity ;  so  we  must  stand  by  him." 

Theodora's  tearful  face  was  uplifted,  with  a  sad 
smile,  to  Fermor's. 

*'  At  last,"  she  said,  "  I  have  found  in  you  a  man 
who  knows  the  meaning  of  honour." 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

TRIUMPHANT   DEMOCRACY 

IT  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Lady  Susan  Battle  re- 
mained quiescent  while  the  newspapers  were  full  of 
paragraphs  containing  thinly  veiled  allusions  to 
Lord  Fermor,  to  the  tragedy  in  Seymour's  life  and 
to  the  dangers  of  socialist  influence  on  the  one  hand, 
and  Catholicism  on  the  other.  Lady  Susan  pres- 
ently announced  to  Lord  Castlemaine  her  determina- 
tion to  go  down  to  King's  Lyndon  and  demand  that 
Theodora  cease  all  intercourse  with  her  father.  Lord 
Castlemaine  promptly  forbade  it  and  called  her  a 
presumptuous  idiot. 

"  I  got  worsted  in  my  encounter  with  Lady  Fer- 
mor, and  she  would  do  you  up  in  spite  of  your  pur- 
ple velvet  gowns  and  largest  brooch  and  longest 
feathers,"  he  answered. 

This  conversation  took  place  in  Lady  Susan's  own 
drawing-room  and  in  the  presence  of  Joshua  Battle, 
who  rarely  opened  his  mouth  in  his  own  house  or  any- 
where else.  It  was  before  luncheon  and  Lady  Susan 
had  not  yet  read  the  morning  newspaper.  Mr.  Bat- 
tle silently  handed  it  to  Lord  Castlemaine,  who  read 
in  a  sonorous  voice  the  announcement  of  the  engage- 
ment of  Captain  John  Thornycroft  of  Croft  Castle, 

363 


TRIUMPHANT    DEMOCRACY         363 

Lincolnshire  and  the  Havens,  Kent,  to  Dorothy,  only 
daughter  of  the  late  Wescott  Wyndham  of  New 
York.  The  wedding  was  to  take  place  during  the 
summer. 

The  blow  was  severe  to  Lady  Susan. 

"  I  consider,"  she  said,  after  the  first  shock  of 
surprise,  "  that  Jack  Thornycroft  behaved  shame- 
fully to  Jane.  It  was  just  what  I  should  expect  of 
him — to  marry  that  sensational  person,  who,  I  un- 
derstand, is  only  nineteen  and  dresses  like  a  dowager 
duchess." 

"  Better  than  any  dowager  duchess  I  know,"  re- 
plied Lord  Castlemaine,  who  had  never  investigated 
the  subject.  "  My  own  belief  is,  that  you  will  still 
be  connected  with  Jack  Thornycroft,  because  Wynd- 
ham, I  can  see,  is  dead  set  on  marrying  Jane." 

At  that  moment,  just  as  if  it  had  been  prear- 
ranged, the  door  opened,  and  the  footman  announced 
"  Mr.  Wyndham." 

Wyndham  entered,  smiling  and  debonair  as  usual, 
and  was  received  timidly  by  Mr.  Battle,  icily  by 
Lady  Susan  and  with  every  demonstration  of  cor- 
diality by  Lord  Castlemaine,  who  had  a  very  clear 
notion  of  the  object  of  Wyndham's  visit.  When 
they  were  again  seated,  Wyndham  said,  smiling  to 
Mr.  Battle  and  glancing  at  Lady  Susan: 

"  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  make  a  clean  breast  of 
it.  I  came  at  this  informal  hour,  Mr.  Battle,  to  ask 
your  consent  and  Lady  Susan's  to  my  marriage  to 
your  daughter  Jane." 


364    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Joshua  Battle,  true  to  the  instinct  of  self-preser- 
vation, remained  silent,  and  Lady  Susan  spoke  with 
chilling  politeness. 

"  We  regret  very  much  to  hear  of  this,  as  we  think 
such  a  marriage  undesirable,  and  in  fact  quite  out  of 
the  question." 

"Why?  "  innocently  asked  Wyndham. 

Mr.  Battle  glanced  helplessly  at  Lady  Susan,  who 
answered  promptly: 

"  It  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  state  our  objec- 
tions." 

"  I  think  it  is,"  said  Wyndham,  earnestly.  "  I 
didn't  expect  you  to  accept  my  proposition  without 
making  any  inquiry  into  my  character,  my  standing, 
my  antecedents,  and  my  ability  to  maintain  your 
daughter  as  she  is  accustomed  to  be  maintained.  I 
am  supplied  with  all  those  particulars,  and  can  re- 
fer you,  besides,  to  the  American  Ambassador." 

"  That  is  unnecessary,"  replied  Lady  Susan,  after 
a  freezing  pause. 

"  As  regards  fortune,"  persisted  Wyndham,  "  I 
can  furnish  a  list  of  banks  and  trust  companies 
which  will  prove  that  I  can  give  your  daughter 
everything  pertaining  to  her  station.  I  am  willing 
to  settle  everything  I  have  on  her,  and  to  insure  my 
life  for  her  benefit  for  any  amount  Mr.  Battle  thinks 
necessary.  Her  own  fortune  will,  of  course,  be  se- 
cured to  her." 

Lady  Susan  looked  significantly  at  Joshua  Battle. 
These  quixotic  offers,  as  she  considered  them,  plainly 


TRIUMPHANT    DEMOCRACY         365 

marked  Wyndham  as  an  unprincipled  adventurer. 
She  repeated,  therefore,  with  stern  emphasis: 

"  I  can  only  say  that  Mr.  Battle  and  I  cannot  con- 
sider your  proposition." 

"  That's  all  right,"  replied  Wyndham  cheerfully. 
"  I  am  awfully  sorry  not  to  have  your  consent  and 
Mr.  Battle's,  and  I'm  sure  it  will  distress  Miss  Battle 
very  much,  but  we  shall  get  married  all  the  same." 

All  through  this,  Lord  Castlemaine  sat  silent,  and 
enjoyed  himself  more  than  he  had  done .  even  at 
Monte  Carlo.  He  had  no  love  for  Americans,  but 
his  sense  of  humour  placed  him  irresistibly  on 
Wyndham's  side.  Besides,  a  girl  like  Jane  Battle, 
of  no  descent,  and  no  particular  beauty  or  distinc- 
tion, with  only  her  ten  thousand  pounds  to  her  for- 
tune, was  quite  good  enough  for  an  American.  Lord 
Castlemaine  was  too  much  of  an  artist  to  spoil  the 
scene  by  speaking.  He  merely  sat  back  and 
chuckled  softly. 

Suddenly,  as  if  by  a  prearranged  scheme,  Jane 
walked  in  from  the  next  room.  Wyndham  rose  and 
saluted  her  gallantly. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  it  is  all  settled.  Your  father 
and  mother  have  refused  their  consent,  but  they  will 
probably  come  round  in  the  end." 

"I  hope  so,"  replied  Jane,  a  firm  note  in  her 
sweet  voice. 

"  And  in  cases  like  this,"  continued  Wyndham, 
"  the  sooner  we  are  married  the  better." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Jane  softly. 


Lady  Susan,  dazed  and  dumbfounded  by  what 
was  happening  so  rapidly,  concluded  that  Wynd- 
ham  had  been  drinking,  and  that  Jane  was  crazy, 
but  she  managed  to  cry  out  to  Wyndham : 

"  How  dare  you  have  the  presumption  to  ask  an 
English  girl  of  my  step-daughter's  position  and  for- 
tune to  marry  you?  " 

"  Well,"  answered  Wyndham,  "  you  see,  I  had 
lots  of  provocation  to  fall  in  love  with  Miss  Battle. 
It's  all  her  fault  to  be  so  fascinating.  Some  people 
don't  think  English  girls  attractive,  but  I  do,  I  can 
tell  you.  Miss  Battle  did  me  up  in  about  three 
days." 

"  Mr.  Battle,"  said  Lady  Susan  in  an  awful  voice, 
"  please  to  ring  the  bell." 

Joshua  Battle  obediently  got  up  and  rang  the 
bell  and  returned  to  his  seat.  Then  Lady  Susan 
said  sternly: 

"  Jane,  leave  the  room." 

But  Jane  did  not  leave  the  room.  Wyndham 
went  over  to  her,  took  her  hand  and  said,  looking 
Lady  Susan  squarely  in  the  eye: 

"  This  is  a  perfect  outrage.  Miss  Battle  is 
twenty-three  years  of  age,  and  to  be  ordered  out 
of  the  room  like  a  child  is  preposterous." 

The  footman  having  appeared,  Lady  Susan  said: 

"  Show  Mr.  Wyndham  out." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Wyndham  coolly,  "  but  when 
I  go,  Miss  Battle  goes  with  me.  My  sister  is  wait- 
ing in  the  motor  outside.  Miss  Battle  can  remain 


TRIUMPHANT    DEMOCRACY         367 

with  her  until  I  can  arrange  for  our  marriage  to- 
morrow morning.  Do  you  think  I  would  leave  the 
woman  I  love  in  a  house  where  at  twenty-three  years 
of  age,  she  can  be  ordered  about  like  a  servant?  " 

Wyndham  held  out  his  hand  to  Jane,  who  calmly 
put  hers  within  it. 

"  I  hardly  think,"  said  Jane  tremulously,  "  that 
mamma  means  to  be  unkind.  In  England,  mothers 
often  send  their  grown  daughters  out  of  the  room." 

"  You  bet  they  don't  in  America,"  replied  Wynd- 
ham. warmly,  "  and  I  don't  intend  to  stand  by  and 
see  the  girl  I  love  treated  in  any  such  manner.  More 
than  that,  I  could  not  respect  a  woman  who  allowed 
herself  to  be  coerced  in  this  manner.  So,  Jane,  it  is 
up  to  you  now  to  take  me  or  leave  me  on  the  spot." 

"  Most  interesting  crisis  at  which  I  ever  assisted," 
murmured  Lord  Castlemaine,  unable  to  restrain  his 
enjoyment  longer. 

Tears  came  into  Jane's  pretty  eyes.  She  glanced 
at  Lady  Susan,  who  was  boiling  with  wrath,  and  then 
Jane  looked  at  Wyndham. 

"  Dear  mamma,"  she  said,  putting  her  hand  in 
Wyndham's,  "  I  know  you  don't  mean  to  be  unkind. 
It  is  only  that  Mr.  Wyndham  is  not  accustomed  to 
English  ways.  But  I  love  him  and  mean  to  marry 
him,  and  I  must  do  what  he  says." 

For  the  first  time  since  Joshua  Battle  married 
an  earl's  daughter,  he  spoke  for  himself. 

"  My  dear  Jane,"  he  said  feebly,  "  you  must  see 
the  scandalous  nature  of  what  you  are  contemplat- 


368     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ing.  To  leave  my  house  with  this  young  man  would 
be  to  blast  your  reputation  forever." 

Wyndham's  dark,  handsome  face  was  red  with 
anger  as,  still  holding  Jane  by  the  hand,  he  walked 
up  to  Mr.  Battle  and  said  with  concentrated  rage: 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  to  use 
such  words  in  connection  with  your  daughter.  If 
you  were  not  an  old  man,  I  would  kick  you  full  of 
holes  this  minute.  Your  daughter  couldn't  do  any- 
thing that  was  not  modest  and  proper — she  would 
not  know  how.  She  couldn't  be  in  any  better  com- 
pany than  with  my  sister.  When  she  is  my  wife,  I 
shall  demand  an  apology  from  you  for  your  lan- 
guage to  her  to-day,  before  I  permit  her  to  hold  any 
communication  with  you." 

If  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  had  suddenly  collapsed, 
or  the  Nelson  column  had  melted  into  thin  air,  Lady 
Susan  and  Mr.  Battle  could  not  have  been  more  as- 
tounded. Lord  Castlemaine,  however,  retained  his 
composure  and  remarked  with  a  cheerful  grin: 

"  Susan,  you  are  beaten  all  to  rags,  for  the  first 
time  in  your  life.  The  girl  is  going  with  Wyndham 
and  it  would  be  making  an  awful  row  and  you  will 
have  a  harder  time  than  ever  in  marrying  off  the 
other  girls.  You  had  better  compromise." 

"  The  only  compromise  I  will  accept,"  shouted 
Wyndham,  now  thoroughly  incensed,  "  is  to  be  mar- 
ried next  week  at  St.  George's,  Hanover  Square, 
with  all  the  flummery  that  can  be  crowded  into  it. 
I  hate  a  show  wedding  as  much  as  any  man,  but  the 


only  terms  I  will  accept  from  Lady  Susan  and  Mr. 
Battle  is  to  have  them  give  their  daughter  a  wed- 
ding as  if  she  were  marrying  the  eldest  son  of  a 
duke." 

"  That  is  what  Susan  has  been  after  all  the  time," 
remarked  Lord  Castlemaine  pleasantly.  "  She 
could  have  married  these  girls  with  their  ten  thou- 
sand pounds  apiece,  a  dozen  times  over,  but  she 
wanted  to  make  a  great  stroke,  and  she  can't  do  it, 
particularly  with  the  American  competition.  You 
may  as  well  knock  under,  Susan." 

"  I  will  never  consent,"  gasped  Lady  Susan,  feel- 
ing as  if  the  ground  were  slipping  from  under  her 
feet. 

"  All  right,"  responded  Wyndham,  who  saw  the 
game  in  his  own  hands  and  who  had  recovered  some- 
thing of  his  good  humour.  "Get  your  hat,  Jane, 
and  you  can  send  after  your  things.  If  they  won't 
let  you  have  them,  it  is  no  matter.  You  can  get  an 
outfit  a  good  deal  better  perhaps." 

"  Pray,  uncle,"  said  Jane,  more  tears  coming  in 
her  eyes,  "  persuade  mamma  and  papa  to  consent  and 
let  me  be  married  from  home." 

"  There  shouldn't  be  any  occasion  to  persuade," 
said  Lord  Castlemaine.  "  People  should  learn  to  ac- 
cept the  inevitable." 

Lady  Susan  turned  her  head  helplessly  from  side 
to  side.  Lord  Castlemaine,  upon  whom  she  relied  to 
stem  the  tide  of  Americans,  had  gone  over  to  the 
other  side,  whether  from  pure  perversity  or  from 


370    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

sincere  conviction,  she  could  not  tell,  but  she  was  be- 
ginning to  see  that  matters  had  passed  out  of  her 
own  hands. 

"  If  my  daughter  mil  persist  in  this  outrageous 
marriage "  she  began. 

"Stop!"  cried  Wyndham,  "that  word  can't  be 
used  in  connection  with  Miss  Battle's  marriage  to 
anybody.  You  may  say  what  you  like  about  me,  but 
if  a  disrespectful  word  is  said  about  Miss  Battle, 
there  will  be  trouble !  " 

Lady  Susan  was  quite  pale.  Joshua  Battle  sat 
limp  and  unresisting  in  his  chair.  Presently,  Lady 
Susan  spoke. 

"  The  wedding,  however,  must  be  strictly  simple 
and  private." 

"  No ! "  answered  Wyndham  firmly,  "  it  must  be 
extremely  conspicuous.  St.  George's,  Hanover 
Square,  ten  bridesmaids,  full  choral  service  «and  a 
Bishop  to  perform  the  ceremony.  I  mean  to  have  all 
that's  coming  to  me.  The  motor  is  outside,  Lady 
Susan,  and  it  is  now  or  never." 

Here  Joshua  Battle  interposed  with  a  feeble 
hand. 

"  It  would  be  impossible,  Mr.  Wyndham,"  he  said, 
*'  to  arrange  for  such  a  wedding  as  you  describe, 
within  a  week." 

"A  fortnight,  then,"  said  Wyndham, 

"  This  is  Friday !  "  cried  Lady  Susan. 

"  And  it  has  been  an  unlucky  day  for  you,"  inter- 
jected Lord  Castlemaine. 


"  To-morrow,  two  weeks,  then,"  said  Wyndham. 
"  The  announcement  goes  in  the  newspapers  to-mor- 
row morning." 

He  took  out  his  note  book  and  wrote  out  rapidly, 
"  A  marriage  has  been  arranged  and  will  take  place 
shortly  between  Archibald  Wyndham,  Esquire,  of 
New  York,  and  Jane,  eldest  daughter  of  Mr.  and 
Lady  Susan  Battle,  of  Queen's  Gate  and  Brindley 
Place,  Holmead,  Cheshire." 

"  The  game  is  up,  Susan,"  said  Lord  Castlemaine. 

"  It  will  simply  ruin  the  prospects  of  the  other 
girls,"  replied  Lady  Susan  with  the  accent  of  calm 
despair. 

"  No  it  won't,"  answered  Lord  Castlemaine. 
"  Decent-looking  girls,  with  ten  thousand  pounds 
each,  can  get  married.  If  you  will  just  get  that  no- 
tion of  eldest  sons  of  dukes  and  earls  out  of  your 
head,  these  girls  will  do  very  well.  You  threw  them 
at  Fermor's  head  from  the  time  they  were  out  of  the 
nursery,  and  I  told  you  all  the  time  it  was  perfectly 
useless." 

"  I  only  wished  to  do  my  duty  by  my  husband's 
daughters,"  replied  Lady  Susan,  bursting  into  tears 
of  chagrin. 

Jane,  who  had  the  best  heart  in  the  world  and  who 
saw  that  beneath  Lady  Susan's  purple  velvet  gown 
and  large  turquoise  brooch,  was  really  a  good  heart, 
went  up  to  her  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  know,  mamma,  you  have  tried  to  do  a  good 
part  by  all  of  us.  We  appreciate  it,  but  I  assure 


372    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

you  I  would  rather  marry  Mr.  Wyndham  than  any 
man  I  ever  saw.  I  don't  care  for  rank.  I  want  to 
be  happy." 

Lady  Susan  did  not  know  whether  she  was  dream- 
ing or  awake.  She  seemed  to  be  in  a  sort  of  night- 
mare. 

When  Wyndham  went  off  after  shaking  hands 
cordially  with  them  all,  Jane  suggested  that  they 
must  go  that  very  afternoon  and  see  about  the 
wedding  gown.  Lady  Susan  nearly  fainted.  Never- 
theless, she  went.  Two  weeks  was  a  fearfully 
short  time  to  arrange  for  a  wedding  even  in  Eng- 
land, where  marriage  follows  engagements  rapidly. 

Eventually,  as  Wyndham  had  stipulated  for  a 
show  wedding  and  insisted  upon  every  particular, 
the  time  was  extended  to  three  weeks.  Bridesmaids 
had  to  be  asked,  and  as  Lady  Susan  insisted  they 
should  be  girls  of  rank,  a  little  time  was  necessary. 
Lord  and  Lady  Fermor  entered  warmly  into  the 
plans  for  the  wedding.  It  was  arranged  that  after 
a  short  honeymoon,  the  bride  and  bridegroom  should 
sail  for  New  York  with  Dot.  A  fortnight  later, 
Jack  Thornycroft  would  follow,  and  the  second 
wedding  in  the  Wyndham  family  was  to  take  place 
in  New  York. 

Lady  Susan,  whose  spirit  was  by  no  means  wholly 
crushed,  ventured  to  suggest  to  Dot  that  she  was 
giving  herself  unnecessary  airs  in  requiring  Jack 
Thornycroft  to  follow  her  to  America  to  be  married. 
To  this,  Dot  replied  coolly: 


"  If  he  doesn't  come  after  me,  he  can't  get  me, 
that's  all." 

This  revolutionary  sentiment  -shocked  and  dis- 
gusted Lady  Susan.  It  would  never  have  been  ut- 
tered by  one  of  her  own  brood  of  step-daughters,  and 
they  certainly  were  entitled  to  as  much  consideration 
as  unknown  and  extraordinary  young  persons.  But 
Lady  Susan  found  out,  as  Lord  Castlemaine  and 
even  Lord  Fermor  had,  American  women  forced  a 
recognition  of  their  own  sovereignty  in  all  the  crises 
of  domestic  life. 

The  marriage  of  Wyndham  and  Jane  Battle  was 
really  a  beautiful  and  brilliant  wedding,  and  lighted 
by  the  glow  of  true  affection.  Lady  Susan  was 
slightly  comforted  by  the  thought  that  it  was  some- 
thing to  get  a  daughter  married,  anyhow,  and  bore 
herself  with  an  air  of  dignified  martyrdom.  Dot, 
at  the  head  of  the  bridesmaids,  was  the  tallest,  as 
well  as  the  handsomest,  of  them,  and  had  an  air  of 
imperial  grace  as  she  swept  up  the  aisle.  The  men 
all  justified  Thorny  croft.  He  was  one  of  the  great 
matches  of  the  season,  but  he  had  fallen  a  prey,  a 
captive,  as  so  many  other  good  matches  do,  to  the 
bow  and  spear  of  this  radiant  Diana.  The  English 
girls  sighed  as  they  looked  at  Dot  and  won- 
dered how  she  did  it.  She  had  not  the  splen- 
did fortune  of  Lady  Fermor  and  many  other 
American  women  who  made  great  marriages  in 
England.  None  of  these  American  girls  rode 
or  shot  or  were  golf  champions  or  were  crack 


374     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

tennis  players  or  drove  their  own  motors  in  mo- 
tor races.  They  simply  wore  fetching  clothes  and 
sat  and  smiled  at  Englishmen,  and  were  saucy 
to  them,  and  the  thing  was  done.  It  was  distressing 
to  Lady  Susan  that  the  Castlemaine  family  and  con- 
nections should  become  a  party  to  the  aggrandise- 
ment of  Americans,  but  she  laid  it  all  upon  the  guilty 
head  of  Edward  VII. 

"  It  is  the  King's  doing,"  she  declared  solemnly 
to  Lord  Castlemaine,  when  the  wedding  reception 
was  over.  "  I  consider  the  King  as  fully  responsible 
for  this  marriage  as  if  he  had  directly  commanded 
it.  I  only  hope  the  day  may  not  come  when  he  will 
endure  great  remorse  at  the  manner  in  which  he  has 
blasted  the  hopes  of  so  many  English  mothers  and 
daughters." 

"  You  mean,"  replied  Lord  Castlemaine,  "  that 
you  hope  that  day  will  come.  But  it  never  will.  The 
only  thing  for  you  to  do,  Susan,  is  to  stop  praying 
for  the  King  and  royal  family  at  the  morning 
service." 


CHAPTER   XXIX 
THE  DAWN 

THE  spring  passed  and  the  summer  was  at  hand. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wyndham  had  sailed  away,  Jack 
Thornycroft  had  followed  and  returned  with  his 
bride,  and  the  London  newspapers  were  full  of  the 
gowns  and  doings  of  the  tall  and  beautiful  Mrs.  Jack 
Thornycroft.  The  same  newspapers  chronicled  much 
concerning  Lord  and  Lady  Fermor. 

The  Fermors  went  up  to  London  for  a  short  sea- 
son and  opened  Seymour's  magnificent  house  in 
Queen's  Gate.  A  man  in  the  beginning  of  his  par- 
liamentary service  usually  remained  in  the  back- 
ground, but  a  circumstance  connected  with  his  own 
division  advanced  Fermor  with  more  than  usual  rap- 
idity. He  possessed  all  of  Lord  Castlemaine's  pow- 
ers as  a  debater,  with  a  degree  of  prudence  and  tact 
entirely  at  variance  with  Lord  Castlemaine's  reck- 
lessness and  inconsistency.  Fermor,  who  in  his  own 
interest  spoke  once  during  the  session,  made  an  ex- 
traordinary impression.  The  Opposition,  seeing  that 
they  had  to  deal  with  a  man  likely  to  become  for- 
midable, made  every  effort  to  disconcert  him,  but 
Fermor  defended  himself  with  the  address  of  a  sea- 
soned debater.  Within  ten  minutes  after  Fermor's 
opening  words,  the  Opposition  benches  began  to  fill 

875 


376    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

up,  the  Ministerialists  soon  followed  and  it  was  plain 
that  they  had  acquired  a  man  worth  having.  Lord 
Castlemaine's  reputation  for  great  abilities  helped 
Fermor,  but  Fermor  was  his  own  best  helper. 

The  speech  was  meant  to  be  a  brief  one,  but  it 
became  a  running  debate  in  which  Fermor  was  al- 
lowed to  win  his  spurs  against  half  a  dozen  clever 
opponents,  and  it  lasted  much  longer  than  was  an- 
ticipated. When  he  took  his  seat,  members  crowded 
around  him,  congratulating  him,  and  Fermor  felt 
that  glow  which  attends  a  man  on  his  first  success 
in  the  arena  for  which  he  had  longed  since  his  boy- 
hood. In  the  ladies'  gallery,  Theodora,  with  a 
proudly  beating  heart,  witnessed  her  husband's  tri- 
umph. 

When  he  went  out  of  the  House,  he  found  Theo- 
dora waiting  for  him  in  an  open  carriage.  It  was 
about  six  o'clock  on  a  lovely  June  evening  and  the 
pinnacles  of  the  great  pile  of  the  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment were  reflected  in  the  river  which  ran,  in  the 
old  Homeric  phrase,  wine-coloured  under  the  glowing 
sun.  It  happened  to  be  the  anniversary  of  the  meet- 
ing of  Theodora  and  Fermor  at  the  Prime  Minister's 
reception,  and  Theodora,  after  congratulating  Fer- 
mor warmly  and  tenderly  on  his  parliamentary  tri- 
umph, spoke  of  the  date.  It  was  indeed  one  of  those 
every-day  miracles  that  do  not  surprise  merely  be- 
cause they  happen  so  often,  one  of  the  familiar  mys- 
teries with  which  this  singular  life  is  encompassed. 
A  year  ago,  they  were  each  at  the  entrance  of  an 


THE    DAWN  377 

unknown  Paradise.     Theodora's  heart,  she  thought, 
was  in  the  grave  of  her  dead  child.     She  had  looked 
so  long  in  the  faces  of  shame  and  sorrow  that  she 
thought  she  would  never  again  recognise  honour  and 
peace.     God  Himself  Deemed  to  be  estranged.     Now, 
how  great  the  magic  change !     Love,  honour,  hap- 
piness, peace  of  soul,  were  hers.    There  were  disturb- 
ing elements  in  her  life,  such  as  the  catastrophe  of 
her  father,  but  a  woman  secure  in  the  fortress  of 
honour  and  guarded  by  love  need  not  be  afraid.     So, 
with  Fermor — how  kindly  had  Fate  smiled  upon  him ! 
That  June  day  a  year  he  had,  it  is  true,  made  up 
his  mind  to  cast  off  the  shackles  of  sloth  and  the 
influence  of  an  evil  woman.     But  it  was  as  if  the  first 
look  into  Theodora's  spiritual  face  had  waked  the 
spell  of  regeneration  which  Ashburton's  talk,  under 
the  sky  of  the  June  midnight,  had  only  confirmed. 
But  one  does  not  get  rid  of  the  evil  things  in  life  all 
at  once,  any  more  than  cutting  off  a  noisome  weed 
destroys  it  forever.    As  Fermor  sat  back  in  the  car- 
riage, admiring  his  wife's  delicate  beauty,  and  listen- 
ing, with  laughing  deprecation  at  her  anticipations 
of  glory  for  him,  another  open  carriage  drove  by 
them,  going  as  they  were,  toward  the  Buckingham 
Gate  entrance  to  the  Park.   In  this  carriage  sat  Mrs. 
Bellenden  and  her  husband.     Something  in  the  mu- 
tual sullenness  of  their  air  gave  them  the  appear- 
ance of  jailer  and  prisoner.     A  transformation  had 
occurred  in  the  dull,  honest  English  squire.     Bellen- 
den's  easy,  good-natured,  handsome,  stupid  face  was 


378     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

sharply  watchful.  His  eye,  turned  on  his  wife,  was 
menacing.  Nothing  more  contrary  to  his  easy  coun- 
trified habits  could  be  imagined  than  this  afternoon 
parade  in  the  Park.  Mrs.  Bellenden,  painted  and 
powdered,  looked  ghastly  in  the  clear  and  loVely 
light.  She  no  longer  affected  the  sensational  mode 
of  dress  which  once  suited  her  spectacular  beauty. 
A  sombre  gown,  a  middle-aged  hat,  made  her  paint 
and  powder  grotesque.  As  the  carriages  came 
abreast,  a  passing  omnibus  halted  them  both.  Fer- 
mor  raised  his  hat  to  Mrs.  Bellenden.  Instead  of 
returning  his  bow,  she  glanced  at  her  husband.  Bel- 
lenden caught  her  wrist  in  his  grasp,  and  looking 
Fermor  full  in  the  face,  call  out  to  the  coach- 
man: 

"  Drive  on  and  get  out  of  this  infernal  crowd." 
Fermor's  face  flushed  deeply.  He  had  never  made 
full  confession  to  Theodora  concerning  Mrs.  Bellen- 
den, feeling  it  the  part  of  a  gentleman  to  save  this 
woman  such  rags  and  remnants  of  reputation  which 
might  be  hers.  It  was  unnecessary  then ;  Theodora's 
quick  eye  and  nimble  intelligence  took  in  the  whole 
scene  at  a  glance.  She  knew  enough  of  what  had 
happened  to  interpret  the  rest.  Her  face,  too,  grew 
scarlet.  Both  remained  silent.  When  they  reached 
the  Serpentine,  Theodora  asked  Fermor  to  walk  with 
her  a  little  by  the  water.  It  was  comparatively  soli- 
tary there,  and  no  one  recognised  them.  After  a 
while,  Fermor  spoke. 

"  I  ask  your  forgiveness,  Theodora,  but  never  will 


THE    DAWN  379 

I  have  to  ask  it  again.  If  only  I  had  met  you  be- 
fore!" 

Theodora  turned  her  dark  and  pensive  eyes  on  her 
husband. 

"  I  try  to  put  the  past  out  of  my  mind.  Do  you 
the  same.  After  all,  we  only  began  to  live  when  we 
met  each  other." 

A  haggard  and  wretched  woman,  sternly  guarded 
by  a  jealous  and  furious  man,  saw,  from  a  distance, 
Lord  and  Lady  Fermor  strolling  like  lovers  by  the 
water's  edge,  and  watching  the  sinking  sun,  as  the 
long  lances  of  light  upon  the  velvet  grass  grew 
longer  and  the  ruby  glow  of  the  bright  water 
changed  to  emerald  and  amethyst.  It  seemed  to 
Fermor  and  Theodora  as  if  every  day  opened  to  each 
a  new  chamber  of  treasures  in  the  soul  of  the  other. 

The  Fermors'  season  in  London  was  short,  but 
brilliant.  Theodora's  mind  was  easier  than  she  had 
imagined  it  possible  concerning  her  father.  He  was 
no  worse  in  health,  and  apparently  perfectly  happy 
at  Barleywood,  under  Reyburn's  watchful  and  in- 
telligent care.  Seymour's  mind  was  by  no  means 
free  from  lapses,  but  these  lapses  were  unimportant 
and  seemed  to  be  growing  less.  The  thing  which 
Theodora  dreaded  most  did  not  occur — that  Sey- 
mour did  not  develop  the  design  at  which  he  had 
several  times  hinted,  of  returning  to  America  and 
serving  out  the  remaining  three  months  of  his  sen- 
tence. Wyndham,  on  his  return  to  America,  sounded 
the  authorities,  and,  informing  them  of  Seymour's 


380    THE    MARRIAGE    O*    THEODORA 

blameless  life  and  decaying,  intellect,  received  as- 
surances that  no  effort  would  be  made  to  disturb  him 
in  his  last  days.  This  gave  great  peace  to  Theo- 
dora and  to  Fermor.  Theodora's  method  concerning 
her  father  worked  admirably.  She  maintained  the 
closest  intercourse  with  him,  but  in  no  way  forced 
him  on  any  one  else,  not  even  Fermor.  Fermor, 
however,  showed  the  utmost  kindness  and  considera- 
tion and  whenever  his  work  permitted  went  to  Barley- 
wood  with  Theodora.  Ashburton  proved,  as  ever, 
the  best  of  friends,  and  frequently  managed  to  spend 
a  few  hours  with  Seymour,  to  whom  he  had  become 
sincerely  attached. 

As  a  reward  for  Fermor's  kindness  and  complais- 
ance, Theodora  chose  to  consider  that  Lord  Castle- 
maine  had  made  her  an  ample  apology,  and  treated 
him  with  perfect  courtesy.  Lord  Castlemaine  him- 
self never  could  find  it  in  his  heart  to  be  steadily  an- 
gry with  a  charming  woman,  and  assumed  an  atti- 
tude of  good-humoured  indulgence  toward  his  daugh- 
ter-in-law. Theodora  readily  and  with  dignity  took 
her  place  among  the  great  political  hostesses,  and  her 
social  career  was  distinguished  by  the  same  grace- 
ful individuality  which  marked  everything  she  did. 
She  abandoned  the  London  fashion  of  asking  a  thou- 
sand persons  to  fill  the  space  which  would  only  com- 
fortably accommodate  five  hundred;  carefully  she 
avoided  the  traditional  London  crush  which  consists 
of  one  tightly  wedged  stream  of  humanity,  painfully 
toiling  up  a  grand  staircase  and  jammed  against 


THE    DAWN  381 

another  stream  of  people  toiling  painfully  down- 
ward. Lord  Castlemaine  offered  Castlemaine  House 
as  an  adjunct  to  the  Fermor's  house,  and  Theodora 
electrified  him  by  her  American  initiative,  in  propos- 
ing that  a  temporary  archway  be  cut  for  the  season 
between  the  drawing-room  floors  of  the  two  houses. 

"  It  can  be  closed,  you  know,  when  we  leave 
town,"  she  said. 

Lord  Castlemaine  stared,  roared  and  slapped  his 
knee. 

"  Capital !  capital !  "  he  cried.  "  It  will  drive  my 
sister  Susan  crazy !  " 

So,  indeed,  it  almost  did.  Lady  Susan  would  no 
more  have  suggested  such  a  thing  than  she  would 
have  suggested  cutting  off  Lord  Castlemaine's  ears 
and  attaching  them  to  her  bonnet,  or  proposing  that 
she  should  be  chained  to  him  for  the  rest  of  the  sea- 
son. However,  as  she  painfully  reflected,  the  earth 
and  the  fulness  thereof  belonged  to  the  Americans, 
and  she  could  only  take  refuge  in  predicting  awful 
retribution  on  the  King  who  had  made  such  things 
*  possible. 

A  magnificent  archway  was  therefore  cut  between 
the  drawing-room  floor  of  Castlemaine  House  and 
the  Fermors'  house,  which  was  a  part  of  Theodora's 
dowry.  The.  result  was  a  double  suite  of  rooms  so 
large  that  no  such  thing  as  a  crush  was  possible. 
The  very  first  of  Theodora's  evening  parties  showed 
the  excellence  of  the  scheme,  and  Lord  Castlemaine, 
quick  at  recognising  things,  saw  in  it  a  remarkable 


382     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

instance  of  the  ingenious  American  mind,  which  is 
at  once  imaginative  and  practical. 

At  this  first  evening  party  the  guests  entered 
through  the  Fermor  mansion,  and  departed  by  way 
of  Castlemaine  House.  Lady  Fermor,  standing  in 
the  archway  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  which  was  em- 
bowered in  palms  and  flowers,  could  see  all  her  guests 
without  the  crowding  and  huddling  which  makes  the 
hostess  of  a  great  London  house  an  object  of  pity 
at  a  reception.  The  women's  gowns  were  not  wrecked 
nor  were  the  men's  toes  trodden  upon.  This  was  a 
great  gain  and  glory  for  Theodora.  She  was  warmly 
congratulated  by  her  old  friends,  the  Marsacs  and 
the  Thornycrofts,  but  most  of  all,  by  Lord  Castle- 
maine himself.  Fermor's  quiet  gratification  was 
delicious  to  Theodora.  It  looked  as  if  it  might  be 
possible  that,  after  all,  Theodora  would  be  a  help  in- 
stead of  a  hindrance  to  her  husband  in  his  public 
career. 

In  July,  the  Fermors  returned  to  King's  Lyndon. 
There  had  been  a  cessation  of  newspaper  paragraphs 
about  him  and  it  would  seem  as  if  Theodora  were 
gradually  overcoming  whatever  disadvantages  her 
father,  her  religion  or  her  nationality  might  have 
been  to  Fermor. 


CHAPTER    XXX 
IN  THE  MORNING  GLOW 

AT  King's  Lyndon  that  autumn  there  were  no  splen- 
did parties,  as  Theodora's  health  required  complete 
repose.  In  all  her  after  life,  if  she  had  been  asked 
to  name  the  happiest  period,  it  would  have  been  that 
quiet  autumn  and  early  winter.  She  had  the  mys- 
terious hopes  and  joys  of  coming  motherhood.  The 
life  of  repose  and  quiet  companionship  with  Fermor 
she  liked  above  all  things,  and  of  which  she  knew  her 
portion  would,  in  view  of  Fermor's  public  life,  be 
necessarily  scanty.  She  saw  only  her  few  intimate 
friends,  which  were  also  Fermor's.  When  she  went 
in  the  dawn  of  the  sunny  autumn  morning  to  service 
in  the  little  church,  seven  miles  away,  or  when  in  the 
veiled  brightness  of  the  afternoon  she  stopped  to  go 
in  and  pray  before  the  little  altar  where  the  sanctu- 
ary lamp  swung,  Fermor  was  always  with  her  to 
take  care  of  her. 

What  he  felt  or  thought  at  this  time  she  never 
asked,  believing  that  what  was  passing  in  Fermor's 
soul  was  between  that  soul  and  the  Maker  of  it.  Fer- 
mor's heart  and  life  belonged  to  Theodora,  but  she 
left  his  soul  free,  even  from  the  encroachments  of  her 
love. 

There  was  always  much  for  both  to  do  in  the  morn- 

383 


384     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

ings.  In  the  afternoon  if  the  sun  shone,  Theodora 
strolled  around  the  lake  and,  sitting  in  the  temple, 
would  indulge  her  memory  and  her  imagination.  She 
was  glad  sometimes  to  be  alone,  so  much  had  hap- 
pened in  the  last  year  and  a  half;  such  vast  change 
in  her  life,  that  she  needed  a  little  time  to  adjust 
herself  to  it.  Two  years  before,  she  had  been  a 
broken-hearted  creature  who  thought  that  life  was 
over  for  her.  She  had  not  been  able  then  to  accept 
any  religion,  and  rebelled  against  the  thought  that 
God  was  a  merciful  Father.  Then  quickly  but  quietly, 
as  fate  always  moves,  everything  changed — she  had 
consented  to  begin  a  new  life  in  the  great  London 
house  at  her  father's  earnest  entreaty,  and  it  seemed 
as  soon  as  she  gave  up  her  own  will  and  tried  to  for- 
get her  griefs  and  injuries  in  living  for  others,  that 
the  sun  had  burst  upon  her  life.  She  had  found  her- 
self, to  her  surprise,  a  wife,  and  a  happy  one.  Her 
religious  doubts  melted  away  and  her  mind  was 
at  peace.  The  storms  and  humiliations  that  had 
threatened  the  first  days  of  her  marriage,  had  van- 
ished before  the  light.  The  dream  of  a  new  joy  cast 
a  golden  glow  upon  her  path.  The  only  cloud  in 
her  sky  was  her  father's  condition.  But  at  least  he 
had  lived  to  see  her  happiness,  and  it  was  better  that 
he  should  fade  gently  out  of  life,  as  he  was  fading, 
than  that  he  should  live  to  suffer.  If  only  he  could 
last  until  she  could  lay  her  child  in  his  arms — Theo- 
dora asked  no  more. 

And  this  was  granted  her.     In  January  her  child 


IN    THE    MORNING    GLOW          385 

was  born ;  a  beautiful  boy  without  a  blemish  from 
head  to  foot.  Fermor  had  the  Englishman's  deep 
and  intense  satisfaction  in  the  birth  of  an  heir,  and 
even  Lord  Castlemaine  condescended  to  be  pleased. 
Seymour's  delight  was  pathetic,  and  when  in  the 
early  March  days  Theodora  could  come  to  him  once 
more  bringing  with  her  the  beautiful  man-child,  Sey- 
mour seemed  to  have  reached  that  point  of  peace 
and  happiness  to  the  old  which  points  the  way  to  the 
Door  of  the  Other  House. 

In  looking  into  the  dark,  intelligent  eyes  of  her 
child,  Theodora,  to  her  profound  joy,  was  able  to 
drive  from  her  mind  the  thought  which  had  haunted 
her  concerning  her  dead  child — that  he  might  in- 
herit some  evil,  some  weakness,  from  another  strain 
of  blood.  Great  as  was  her  devotion  to  her  father, 
she  could  not  wish  her  child  to  be  wholly  like  him; 
Seymour  was  too  mild,  too  gentle,  too  much  under 
the  mastery  of  his  affections,  and  Theodora  felt,  with 
the  tender  superstition  of  a  woman,  that  her  boy 
would  have  her  father's  goodness  of  heart,  combined 
with  Fermor's  intellect  and  strength  of  character. 

In  the  early  spring,  Seymour  took  to  his  invalid's 
chair  and  only  left  his  bedroom  for  a  sheltered  place 
on  the  porch  when  the  sun  shone  at  mid-day. 

One  afternoon  in  April,  Fermor  accompanied 
Theodora  upon  her  daily  visit  to  Barleywood.  With 
them  was  the  child  in  the  hands  of  his  nurse.  It  was 
Reyburn's  only  grievance  in  life  that  it  was  not 
hers  to  attend  the  child  wholly.  But  she  felt  that 


386     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

Seymour  would  not  much  longer  require  her  faith- 
ful ministrations,  and  then  she  would  once  more  re- 
turn to  King's  Lyndon. 

The  day  was  beautiful  and  bright  and  Seymour 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  had  the  wine  of  life  poured 
into  his  shattered  frame.  His  voice  was  strong,  his, 
eye  clear  and,  what  was  most  amazing,  his  memory 
seemed  to  have  recovered  its  full  force. 

As  they  sat  on  the  sunny  porch  after  Reyburn  had 
fondled  the  boy  and  the  child  had  been  taken  away, 
Seymour  turned  suddenly  to  Fermor  and  said: 

"  When  I  am  gone,  I  want  you  to  take  possession 
of  a  certain  writing-desk  of  which  I  have  given  the 
key  to  Reyburn,  and  in  it  you  will  find  a  letter  ad- 
dressed to  Theodora  which  you  must  give  her.  I  de- 
sire you  to  take  charge  of  it  because  I  know  that  at 
that  time  my  daughter's  grief  will  be  such  that  she 
may  not  be  able  to  attend  to  this  as  promptly  as  I 
wish." 

Fermor  gave  his  promise,  and  Theodora,  smiling 
and  taking  her  father's  hand,  said: 

"  I  think,  dear  papa,  if  you  improve  like  this,  it 
will  be  many  long  years  before  that  letter  reaches 
me." 

Seymour  looked  at  her  with  the  peculiar  and  ap- 
pealing expression  of  the  eye  which  had  always  been 
his  characteristic. 

"  I  think  I  shall  go  soon,"  he  said,  "  and  remem- 
ber this,  that  beyond  leaving  you  and  the  boy  and 
the  kind  friends  like  Lord  Fermor,  I  have  not  the 


IN    THE    MORNING    GLOW          387 

least  objection  to  taking  the  long  journey.  I  feel 
as  if  the  carriage  were  at  the  door  and  I  should  not 
keep  it  waiting." 

During  their  whole  visit  not  the  slightest  lapse 
of  memory  occurred  on  Seymour's  part.  He  talked 
pleasantly  with  Fermor,  fondled  the  boy  tenderly, 
but  his  last  words,  his  last  kiss,  were  for  Theodora. 

After  she  had  gone  down  the  steps  and  was  wav- 
ing her  hand  to  him,  he  suddenly  rose  from  his  in- 
valid chair,  which  he  had  not  left  for  many  weeks,  and 
walked  feebly  to  the  steps  and  held  out  his  arms  once 
more.  Theodora  ran  and  led  him  back  to  his  chair 
and  made  him  promise  her  that  he  would  not  attempt 
to  leave  it  again  without  someone  to  assist  him. 
Then,  with  an  overflowing  tenderness,  she  said  good- 
bye to  him. 

That  night  at  midnight  a  summons  came  for 
Theodora  and  Fermor — Seymour  was  dying. 

It  was  but  a  short  drive  through  the  shadowy 
stretches  of  the  park  and  along  the  white  highroad 
to  the  small  house  at  Barleywood.  Dr.  Rolfe  met 
Theodora  and  Fermor  at  the  door. 

"  You  can  go  in,"  he  said ;  "  his  mind  is  perfectly 
clear,  but  he  will  hardly  last  until  the  morning." 

Fermor's  arm  helped  Theodora  up  the  stair.  The 
shock  of  pain  in  the  midst  of  her  halcyon  days  had 
unnerved  her.  They  found  Seymour  propped  up  in 
bed,  his  eye  and  mind  as  clear  as  ever  in  his  life,  but 
with  the  unmistakable  look  of  the  man  who  knows 
himself  to  be  standing  on  the  brink  of  the  farther 


388     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

world.  Theodora  had  meant  to  be  calm,  but  all  at 
once  her  courage  forsook  her;  she  laid  her  head  on 
her  father's  pillow,  put  her  arms  about  him  and 
burst  into  a  passion  of  tears.  Seymour  smiled  faintly. 
Neither  the  love  of  husband  nor  of  child  had  made 
the  least  alteration  in  Theodora's  devotion  to  him. 

"  You  must  be  calm,"  he  said  feebly,  "  if  you  love 
me,  because  I  have  something  to  tell  you.  Some- 
thing only  for  you  and  Lord  Fermor  to  hear." 

Reyburn  with  instinctive  delicacy  quietly  left  the 
room  and  closed  the  door.  When  she  was  gone, 
Seymour  said  in  a  voice,  weak  and  often  faltering, 
but  perfectly  intelligible: 

"  It  is  something  that  a  stronger  man  would  have 
told  you  long  ago,  but  I  am  not  a  strong  man — I 
never  was.  I  was  too  afraid  of  losing  even  the  least 

atom  of  your  affection "  Seymour  stopped,  as  if 

gathering  strength  to  continue,  and  Theodora,  like 
a  true  daughter,  said: 

"  Dear,  dear  papa,  wait  until  morning  to  tell  me 
what  you  wish  me  to  know." 

"  I  shall  not  be  here  in  the  morning,"  replied  Sey- 
mour calmly.  Whether  he  were  a  strong  man  or  not, 
he  faced  death  as  coolly  as  any  hero  might.  Then 
he  continued: 

"  Theodora,  you  think  perhaps,  because  you  have 
a  child,  that  no  one  can  love  a  child  so  well  as  its 
father  and  mother.  That  is  not  true.  No  father 
ever  loved  a  child  more  dearly  than  I  love  you,  and 
yet — and  yet — it  is  not  a  blood  tie  between  us." 


IN    THE    MORNING    GLOW          389 

Theodora  drew  back,  startled  into  calmness. 
Neither  she  nor  Fermor,  standing  beside  her,  doubted 
that  Seymour  was  perfectly  himself;  his  eye,  that 
unmistakable  witness,  had  a  clearness  of  intelligence 
that  confirmed  his  words.  Seymour  continued,  stop- 
ping often,  but  never  losing  the  thread  of  thought 
or  speech. 

"  I  have  not  the  strength  to  tell  you  all — you  will 
find  it  in  the  letter  in  my  desk,  and  all  the  proofs 
are  with  it.  Your  father  is  the  man  I  killed  by  the 
only  blow  I  ever  struck  in  anger  in  my  life.  I  found 
out  that  he  had  a  child — you,  my  Theodora.  He 
was  estranged  from  his  family,  and  my  blow  left  his 
child  a  friendless  and  helpless  orphan.  I  swore  to 
devote  my  life  to  that  child,  and  in  this  hour  I  can 
call  God  to  witness  that  I  have  done  it.  I  have 
done  it." 

Seymour's  eyes  were  fixed  on  Theodora's  face — 
it  was  as  if  he  invoked  God's  justice  and  mercy  for 
himself  as  he  spoke. 

Theodora  drew  back  with  a  sudden  start.  Sey- 
mour seemed  to  think  it  meant  repulsion. 

"  Perhaps  it  might  have  been  better  managed," 
he  said  humbly,  struggling  with  an  ever-increasing 
weakness.  "  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  if 
you  had  never  been  known  as  my  child — but — Theo- 
dora— I  loved  you  so  well  I  had  not  the  strength 
when  you  called  me  father — you  had  never  known 
your  own  father." 

Seymour  made  a  faint  motion  to  dry  the  tears 


390     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

that  were  dropping  on  his  face,  but  the  weakness 
of  death  was  upon  him.  Theodora  could  only  throw 
herself  upon  her  knees  by  him,  and  wiping  his  ejes 
with  her  handkerchief,  put  her  arms  about  him  and 
cry: 

"  My  father !     My  dear,  dear  father !  " 

A  smile  shone  upon  Seymour's  face,  which  seemed 
glorified  with  a  perfect  peace. 

Then  his  eyes  suddenly  lost  their  look  of  in- 
telligence and  concentration.  His  mind,  nerved 
for  the  last  effort,  finally  lost  its  way  and  wandered 
amid  the  deeps  and  shallows  that  lead  into  the  un- 
known and  uncharted  seas.  After  a  moment  or 
two  of  distress,  he  suddenly  said  to  Theodora,  in  a 
strong  and  pleasant  voice: 

"  I  will  not  say  good-night,  my  dear,  as  I  want  to 
see  you  dressed  in  your  white  gown  for  the  ball,  be- 
fore I  sleep.  I  always  sleep  better  for  seeing  you  the 
last  thing " 

And  the  soul  of  Seymour,  all  weakness  and  all 
strength,  all  human  and  pitiful  and  loving,  passed 
to  its  account  before  that  merciful  God  to  whom  he 
had  ever  offered  the  sacrifice  of  a  contrite  and  hum- 
ble heart. 

•  •  •  •  • 

When  Theodora  and  Fermor  reached  King's  Lyn- 
don, and  stood  alone  together  on  the  terrace,  it  was 
that  mysterious  hour  which  is  neither  night  nor  day, 
neither  darkness  nor  light.  A  melancholy  moon 
hung  low  in  a  haggard  sky ;  the  stars  had  flickered 


IN    THE    MORNING    GLOW          391 

out,  and  the  dark  earth,  plunging  through  the  black 
abyss  of  space,  breathlessly  awaited  the  miracle  of 
the  dawning. 

"  Let  us  not  go  in  yet,"  said  Theodora.  She 
looked  so  wan  and  sad  that  Fermor  was  alarmed  for 
her,  and  replied: 

"Do  you  not  wish  to  see  the  child?" 

'"  No,"  she  said,  "  you  are  enough  for  me  now." 

Fermor  put  his  arm  about  her  with  a  new  and 
deeper  rapture.  Neither  the  child  in  his  rosy  sleep, 
nor  the  dead  man,  lying  in  the  meekness  of  death,  nor 
the  influence  of  any  mind  or  soul  could  come  between 
him  and  Theodora.  Suddenly  she  began  to  weep 
silently.  "  I  know,"  she  said,  "  it  is  a  relief  to  you 

that  our  child  is  not — has  not "  She  stopped, 

and  Fermor  understood  what  she  meant.  There  was 
no  taint  in  the  blood  of  their  child. 

"  But  he  was  my  father,"  she  cried.  "  I  was  the 
child  of  his  soul,  if  not  his  Wood."  Then  she  grew 
composed,  and  her  pale,  distressed  face  became  illu- 
mined; her  colour  returned,  her  eyes  resumed  their 
gentle  stare  with  a  soft  splendour. 

"  And  I  shall  see  my  father  again,"  she  said. 
"  Now,  I  know  for  the  first  time  what  it  is  to  believe, 
to  trust,  to  hope  all  things.  Look !  Look !  See  the 
sunrise ! " 

At  that  moment  the  sky  was  suddenly  flooded  with 
opaline  light.  The  wind  of  dawning  rushed  from 
the  far  spaces  of  the  sun  and  brought  with  it  a 
golden  glory,  a  crimson  splendour,  that  enveloped  the 


392     THE    MARRIAGE    OF    THEODORA 

earth.  From  the  border  of  the  lake  that  gleamed 
with  light,  rose  a  lark,  singing  rapturously.  It  was 
quickly  lost  to  sight  in  the  blue  sky,  but  its  song 
floated  downward  like  the  trickling  of  a  fountain. 
The  ecstasy  of  the  morning  penetrated  the  hearts  of 
Theodora  and  Fermor.  All  things  proclaimed,  not 
death,  but  immortal  life. 


THE  END 


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Man  in  the  Corner,  The.     By  Baroness  Orczy. 

Marriage  A  La  Mode.     By  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward. 

Master  Mummer,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Much  Ado  About  Peter.    By  Jean  Webster. 

Old,  Old  Story,  The.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 

Pardners.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Patience  of  John  Moreland,  The.    By  Mary  Dillon. 

Paul  Anthony,  Christian.    By  Hiram  W.  Hays. 

Prince  of  Sinners,  A.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Prodigious  Hickey,  The.     By  Owen  Johnson. 

Red  Mouse,  The.     By  William  Hamilton  Osborne. 

Refugees,  The.    By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

Round  the  Corner  in  Gay  Street.    Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Rue :  With  a  Difference.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 

Set  in  Silver.    By  C.  N.  and  A.  M.  Williamson. 

St.  Elmo.    By  Augusta  J.  Evans. 

Silver  Blade,  The.    By  Charles  E.  Walk. 

Spirit  in  Prison,  A.    By  Robert  Hichens. 

Strawberry  Handkerchief,  The.     By  Amelia  E.  Barr. 

Tess  of  the  D'Urbervilles.    By  Thomas  Hardy. 

Uncle  William.    By  Jennette  Lee. 

Way  of  a  Man,  The.    By  Emerson  Hough. 

Whirl,  The.    By  Foxcroft  Davis. 

With  Juliet  in  England.    By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Yellow  Circle,  The,    By  Charles  E.  Walk. 


Good  Fiction  Worth  Reading. 

A  series  of  romances  containing  several  of  the  old  favorites  in  the  field 
of  Historical  fiction,  replete  with  powerful  romances  »f  iove  and  diplomacy 
that  excel  in  thrilling  and  absorbing  interest. 


A  COLONIAL  FREE-LANCE.  A  story  of  American  Colonial  Times.  By 
Chauncey  C.  Hotchkiss.  Cloth,  irsno.  -with  four  illustrations  by  J.  "Watson 
Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

A  book  that  appeals  to  Americans  as  a  vivid  picture  of  Revolutionary 
scenes.  The  story  is  a  strong  one,  a  thrilling  one.  It  causes  the  true 
American  to  flush  with  excitement,  to  devour  chapter  after  chapter,  until 
the  eyes  smart,  and  it  fairly  smokes  with  patriotism.  The  love  story  is  a 
singularly  charming  idyl. 

THE  TOWER  OF  LONDON.  A  Historical  Romance  or  the  Times  of  Lady 
Jane  Grey  and  Mary  Tudor.  By  "Win.  Harrison  Ainsworth.  Cloth,  I2ino.  with 
four  illustrations  by  George  Cruikshank.  Price,  Ji.oo. 

This  romance  of  the  "Tower  of  London"  depicts  the  Tower  as  palace, 
prison  and  fortress,  with  many  historical  associations.  The  era  is  tlio 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  story  is  divided  into  two  parts,  one  dealing  with  Lady  Jane  Gr<v. 
and  the  other  with  Mary  Tudor  -as  Queen,  introducing  other  notable  char- 
acters of  the  era.  Throughout  the  story  holds  the  interest  of  the  reader 
In  the  midst  of  intrigue  and  conspiracy,  extending  considerably  over  a 
half  a  century. 

IN  DEFIANCE  OF  THE  KING.  A  Romance  of  the  American  Revolution. 
33y  Chauncey  C  Hotchkiss.  Cloth,  lamo.  with,  four  illustrations  by  J.  "Watson 
Davis.  Price,  Ji.oo, 

Mr.  Hotchkiss  has  etched  In  burning  •words  a  story  of  Tankae  bravery, 
and  true  love  that  thrills  from  beginning  to  end,  with  the  spirit  of  tha 
Revolution.  The  heart  beats  quickly,  and  we  feel  ourselves  taking  a 
part  in  the  exciting  scenes  described.  Hie  whole  story  is  so  absorbing 
that  you  will  sit  up  far  into  the  night  to  finish  it.  As  a  love  romance 
it  is  charming. 

GARTHOWEN.  A  story  of  a  Velsh  Homestead.  By  Allen  Raine.  Cloth, 
izmo.  with  four  illustrations  by  *.  "Watson  Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

"This  Is  a  little  Idyl  of  humble  life  and  enduring  love,  laid  bare  before 
us,  very  real  and  pure,  which  in  its  telling  shows  us  some  sirens  points  of 
"Welsh  character — the  pride,  the  hasty  temper,  the  quick  dying  out  of  wra'h. 
...  We  call  this  a  well- written  story,  interesting  aiike  through  its 
romance  and  its  glimpses  into  another  life  than  ours.  A  delightful  and 
clever  picture  of  "Welsh  village  life.  The  result  is  excellent."— Detroit  Free 
Press. 

MIFANWY.  The  story  of  a  Welsh  Singer.  By  Allan  Raine.  Cloth, 
latno.  -with  four  Illustrations  by  J.  "Watson  Davis.  Price;  Ji-oo. 

"This  is  a  love  story,  simple,  tender  and  pretty  as  one  would  care  to 
read.  The  action  throughout  is  brisk  and  pleasing;  the  characters,  it  is  ap- 
parent at  once,  are  as  true  to  life  as  though  the  author  had  known  them 
all  personally.  Simple  in  all  its  situations,  the  story  is  werked  up  in  that 
touching  and  quaint  strain  which  never  grows  wearisome,  n»  matter  how 
often  the  lights  and  shadows  of  love  are  introduced.  It  rings  true,  and 
does  not  tax  the  imagination." — Boston  Herald. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  pub- 
lishers, A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY,  53-58  Duaac  St.,  New  York, 


Good  Fiction  Worth  Reading, 

A  series  of  romances  containing  several  of  the  old  favorites  in  the  field 
of  historical  fiction,  replete  with  powerful  romances  of  love  and  diplomacy 
that  excel  in  thrilling  and  absorbing  interest. 


D  ARNLEY.  A  Romance  of  the  times  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
By  G.  P.  R.  James.  Cloth,  I2mo.  with  four  illustrations  by  J.  Watson  Davis. 
Price,  $1.00. 

In  point  of  publication,  "Darnley"  Is  that  work  by  Mr.  James  which 
follows  "Richelieu,"  and,  if  rumor  can  be  credited,  it  was  owing  to  the  ad- 
vice and  insistence  of  our  own  Washington  Irving  that  we  are  indebted 
primarily  for  the  story,  the  young  author  questioning  whether  he  could 
properly  paint  the  difference  in  the  characters  of  the  two  great  cardinals. 
And  it  is  not  surprising  that  James  should  have  hesitated;  he  had  been 
eminently  successful  in  giving  to  the  world  the  portrait  of  Richelieu  as  a 
man,  and  by  attempting  a  similar  task  with  Wolsey  as  the  theme,  was 
much  like  tempting  fortune.  Irving  insisted  that  "Darnley"  came  natur- 
ally in  sequence,  and  this  opinion  'being  supported  by  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
the  author  set  about  the  work. 

As  a  historical  romance  "Darnley"  Is  a  book  that  can  be  taken  up 
pleasurably  again  and  again,  for  there  is  about  it  that  subtle  charm  which 
those  who  are  strangers  to  the  works  of  G.  P.  R.  James  have  claimed  waa 
only  to  be  imparted  by  Dumas. 

If  there  was  nothing  more  about  the  work  to  attract  especial  attention, 
the  account  of  the  meeting  of  the  kings  on  the  historic  "field  of  the  cloth  of 
Cold"  would  entitle  the  story  to  the  most  favorable  consideration  of  every 
reader. 

There  is  really  but  little  pure  romance  in  this  story,  for  the  author  ha* 
taken  care  to  imagine  love  passages  only  between  those  whom  history  ha* 
credited  with  haying  entertained  the  tender  passion  one  for  another,  and 
he  succeeds  In  making  such  lovers  as  all  the  world  must  love. 

CAPTAIN  BRAND,  OF  THE  SCHOONER  CENTIPEDE.  By  I,Ieu«. 
Henry  A.  Wise,  U.  S.  N.  (Harry  Gringo).  Cloth,  I2mo.  with  four  illustra- 
tions by  J.  Watson  Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

The  re-publication  of  this  story  will  please  those  lovers  of  sea  yarn* 
•\vho  delight  in  so  much  of  the  salty  flavor  of  the  ocean  as  can  come  through 
the  medium  of  a  printed  page,  for  never  has  a  story  of  the  sea  and  those 
"who  go  down  In  ships"  been  written  by  one  more  familiar  with  the  scenes 
depicted. 

The  one  book  of  this  gifted  author  which  is  best  remembered,  and  which 
•will  be  read  with  pleasure  for  many  years  to  come,  is  "Captain  Brand," 
•who,  as  the  author  states  on  his  title  page,  was  a  "pirate  of  eminence  in 
the  West  Indies."  As  a  sea  story  pure  and  simple,  "Captain  Brand"  has 
never  been  excelled,,  and  as  a  story  of  piratical  life,  told  without  the  usual 
embellishments  of  blood  and  thunder,  it  has  no  equal. 

NICK  OF  THE  WOODS.  A  story  of  the  Early  Settlers  of  Kentucky.  BS 
Robert  Montgomery  Bird.  Cloth,  izmo.  with  four  illustrations  by  J.  Watson 
Davis.  Price,  |i.oo. 

This  most  popular  novel  and  thrilling  story  of  early  frontier  life  in 
Kentucky  was  originally  published  in  the  year  1837.  The  novel,  long  out  of 
print,  had  in  its  day  a  phenomenal  sale,  for  its  realistic  presentation  of 
Indian  and  frontier  life  in  the  early  days  of  settlement  in  the  South,  nar- 
rated In  the  tale  with  all  the  art  of  a  practiced  writer.  A  very  charming 
love  romance  runs  through  the  story.  This  new  and  tasteful  edition  ot 
"Nick  of  the  Woods"  will  be  certain  to  make  many  new  admirers  for 
this  enchanting  story  from  Dr.  Bird's  clever  and  versatile  pen. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  pub- 
lishers, A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY,  52-58  Duaae  St.,  New  York. 


GOOD  FICTION  WORTH  READING 

A  series  of  romances  containing  several  of  the  old  favor- 
ites in  the  field  of  historical  fiction,  replete  with  powerful 
romances  of  love  and  diplomacy  that  excel  in  thrilling  and 
absorbing  interest. 


THE  LAST  TRAIL.  A  story  of  early  days  in  the  Ohio 
Valley.  By  Zane  Grey.  Cloth,  12mo.  Four  page  illustra- 
tions by  J.  Watson  Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

"The  Last  Trail"  is  a  story  of  the  border.  The  scene  is  laid  at  Fort 
Henry,  where  Col.  Ebenezer  Zane  with  his  family  have  built  up  a  village 
despite  the  attacks  of  savages  and  renegades.  The  Colonel's  brother  and 
Wetzel,  known  as  Deathwind  by  the  Indians,  are  the  bordermen  who  devote 
their  lives  to  the  welfare  of  the  white  people.  A  splendid  love  story  runs 
through  the  book. 

That  Helen  Sheppard,  the  heroine,  should  fall  in  love  with  such  a 
brave,  skilful  scout  as  Jonathan  Zane  seems  only  reasonable  after  his  years 
of  association  and  defense  of  the  people  of  the  settlement  from  savages  and 
renegades. 

If  one  has  a  liking  for  stories  of  the  trail,  where  the  white  man  matches 
brains  against  savage  cunning,  for  tales  of  ambush  and  constant  striving  for 
the  mastery,  "The  Last  Trail"  will  be  greatly  to  his  liking. 

THE  KNIGHTS  OF  THE  HORSESHOE.  A  tradition- 
ary tale  of  the  Cocked  Hat  Gentry  in  the  Old  Dominion.  By 
Dr.  Wm.  A.  Caruthers.  Cloth,  12mo.  Four  page  illustra- 
tions by  J.  Watson  Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

Many  will  hail  with  delight  the  re-publication  of  this  rare  and  justly 
famous  story  of  early  American  colonial  life  and  old-time  Virginian 
hospitality. 

Much  that  is  charmingly  interesting  will  be  found  in  this  tale  that  so 
faithfully  depicts  early  American  colonial  life,  and  also  here  is  found  all 
the  details  of  the  founding  of  the  Tramontane  Order,  around  which  has 
ever  been  such  a  delicious  flavor  of  romance. 

Early  customs,  much  love  making,  plantation  life,  politics,  intrigues,  and 
finally  that  wonderful  march  across  the  mountains  which  resulted  in  the 
discovery  and  conquest  of  the  fair  Valley  of  Virginia.  A  rare  book  filled 
with  a  delicious  flavor  of  romance. 

BY  BERWEN  BANKS.  A  Romance  of  Welsh  Life.  By 
Allen  Raine.  Cloth,  12mo.  Four  page  illustrations  by  J. 
Watson  Davis.  Price  $1.00. 

It  is  a  tender  and  beautiful  romance  of  the  idyllic.  A  charming  picture 
of  life  in  a  Wefsh  seaside  village.  It  is  something  of  a  prose-poem,  true, 
tender  and  graceful. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpa:d  on  receipt  of 
price  by  the  publishers,  A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY,  52-58 
Duane  St.,  New  York. 


A  series  of  romances  containing  several  of  the  old  favor- 
ites in  the  field  of  historical  fiction,  replete  with  powerful 
romances  of  love  and  diplomacy  that  excel  in  thrilling  and 
absorbing  interest. 

ROB  OF  THE  BOWL.  A  Story  of  the  Early  Days  of 
Maryland.  By  John  P.  Kennedy.  Cloth,  12mo.  Four  page 
illustrations  by  J.  Watson  Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

This  story  Is  an  authentic  exposition  of  the  manners  and  customs  dur- 
ing Lord  Baltimore's  rule.  The  greater  portion  of  the  action  takes  place 
in  St.  Mary's — the  original  capital  of  the  State. 

The  quaint  character  of  Kob,  the  loss  of  whose  legs  was  supplied  by  a 
•wooden  bowl  strapped  to  his  thighs,  his  misfortunes  and  mother  wit,  far 
outshine  those  fair  to  look  upon.  Pirates  and  smugglers  did  Rob  consort 
•with  for  gain,  and  it  was  to  him  that  Blanche  Werden  owed  her  life  and 
her  happiness,  as  the  author  has  told  us  in  such  an  enchanting  manner. 

As  a  series  of  pictures  of  early  colonial  life  in  Maryland,  "Rob  of  the 
Bowl"  has  no  equal.  The  story  is  full  of  splendid  action,  with  a  charming 
love  story,  and  a  plot  that  never  looseria  the  grip  of  its  interest  to  its  last 
page. 

TICONDEROGA.  A  Story  of  Early  Frontier  Life  in  the 
Mohawk  Valley.  By  G.  P.  R.  James.  Cloth,  12mo.  Four 
page  illustrations  by  J.  Watson  Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

The  setting  of  the  story  is  decidedly  more  picturesque  than  any  ever 
evolved  by  Cooper.  The  story  is  located  on  the  frontier  of  New  York 
State.  The  principal  characters  in  the  story  include  an  English  gentleman, 
his  beautiful  daughter,  Lord  Howe,  and  certain  Indian  sachems  belonging 
to  the  Five  Nations,  and  the  story  ends  with  the  Battle  of  Ticonderoga. 

The  character  of  Captain  Brooks,  who  voluntarily  decides  to  sacrifice 
his  own  life  in  order  to  save  the  son  of  the  Englishman,  is  not  among  the 
least  of  the  attractions  of  this  story,  which  holds  the  attention  of  the  readsr 
even  to  the  last  page. 

Interwoven  with  the  plot  is  the  Indian  "blood"  law,  which  demands  & 
life  for  a  life,  whether  it  be  that  of  the  murderer  or  one  of  his  race.  A 
more  charming  story  of  mingled  love  and  adventure  has  never  been  written 
than  "Ticonderoga." 

MARY  DERWENT.  A  tale  of  the  Wyoming  Valley  hi 
1778.  By  Mrs.  Ann  S.  Stephens.  Coth,  12mo.  Four  illustra- 
tions by  J.  Watson  Davis.  Price,  $1.00. 

The  scene  of  this  fascinating  story  of  early  frontier  life  is  laid  in  the 
Valley  of  Wyoming.  Aside  from  Mary  Derwent,  who  is  of  course  the 
heroine,  the  story  deals  with  Queen  Esther's  son,  Giengwatah,  the  Butlers 
of  notorious  memory,  and  the  adventures  of  the  Colonists  with  the  Indians. 

Though  much  is  made  of  the  Massacre  of  Wyoming,  a  great  portion 
of  the  tale  describes  the  love  making  between  Mary  Derwent's  sister,  Walter 
Butler,  and  one  of  the  defenders  of  Forty  Fort. 

This  hfstorical  novel  stands  out  bright  and  pleating,  because  of  the 
mystery  and  notoriety  of  several  of  the  actors,  the  tender  love  scenes, 
descriptions  of  the  different  localities,  and  the  struggles  of  the  settlers. 
It  holds  the  attention  of  the  reader  even  to  the  last  page. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of 
price  by  the  publishers,  A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY,  52-58 
Duane  St.,  New  York. 


COMPRISING  CHOICE  SELECTIONS  FROM  THE 
TREASURES  OF  THE  WORLDS  KNOWLEDGE, 
ISSUED  IN  A  SUBSTANTIAL  AND  ATTRACTIVE 
CLOTH  BINDING,  AT  A  POPULAR  PRICE 

HURT'S  HOME  LIBRARY  is  a  series  which 
includes  the  standard  works  of  the  world's  best  literature, 
bound  in  uniform  cloth  binding,  gilt  tops,  embracing 
chiefly  selections  from  writers  of  the  most  notable 
English,  American  and  Foreign  Fiction,  together  with 
many  important  works  in  the  domains 
of  History,  Biography,  Philosophy, 
Travel,  Poetry  and  the  Essays* 

A  glance  at  the  following  annexed 
list  of  titles  and  authors  will  endorse 
the  claim  that  the  publishers  make 
for  it — that  it  is  the  most  compre- 
hensive, choice,  interesting,  and  by 
far  the  most  carefully  selected  series 
of  standard  authors  for  world-wide 
reading  that  has  been  produced  by 
any  publishing  house  in  any  country,  and  that  at  prices 
to  cheap,  and  in  a  style  so  substantial  and  pleasing,  as  to 
win  for  it  millions  of  readers  and  the  approval  and 
commendation,  not  only  of  the  book  trade  throughout 
the  American  continent,  but  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
librarians,  clergymen,  educators  and  men  of  letters 
interested  in  the  dissemination  of  instructive,  entertaining 
and  thoroughly  wholesome  reading  matter  for  the  masses. 

[SEE  FOU,OWING  PAGES  1 


BURT'S  HOME  LIBRARY.    Cloth.    Gilt  Tops.    Price,  $1.00 


Abbe     Constantin.         BY      LUDOVIC 

HALEVY.  . 

Abbott,  BY  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 
Adam  Bede.  BY  GEORGE  ELIOT. 
Addison's  Essays.  EDITED  BY  JOHN 

RICHARD  GREEN. 
Aeneid    of    Virgil.     TRANSLATED    BY 

JOHN  CONNINGTON. 
Aesop's  Fables. 
Alexander,    the    Great,    Life    of.     BY 

JOHN  WILLIAMS. 
Alfred,  the  Great,  Life  of.     BY  THOMAS 

HUGHES. 

Mhambra.     BY  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 
AJice  in  Wonderland,  and  Through  the 

Looking-Glass.  BY  LEWIS  CARROLL 
Alice  Lorraine.  BY  R.  D.  BLACKMORB 
All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men.  BY 

WALTER  BESANT. 

Alton  Locke.     BY  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 
Amiel's     Journal.     TRANSLATED     BY 

MRS.  HUMPHREY  WARD. 
Andersen's  Fairy  Tales. 
Anne  of  Geirstein.     BY  SIR  WALTER 

SCOTT. 

Antiquary.     BY  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 
Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments. 
Ardath.     BY   MARIE   CORELLI. 
Arnold,  Benedict,  Life  of.     BY  GEORGE 

CANNING  HILL. 
Arnold's    Poems.        BY      MATTH-EW 

ARNOLD. 

Around  the  World  in  the  Yacht  Sun- 
beam.    BY  MRS.  BRASSEY. 
Aruiidel     Motto.     BY     MARY     CECIL 

HAY. 
At  the  Back  of  the  North  Wind.     BY 

GEORGE  MACDONALD. 
Attic  Philosopher.     BY    EMILE     Sou- 

VESTRE. 
Auld    Licht    Idylls.     BY    JAMES    M. 

BARRIE. 

Aunt  Diana.     BY  ROSA  N.  CAREY. 
Autobiography  of  Benjamin  Franklin. 
Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table.     BY 

O.  W.  HOLMES. 
Averil.     BY  ROSA  N.  CAREY. 
Bacon's  Essays.     BY  FRANCIS  BACON. 
Barbara  Heathcote's  TriaL     BY  ROSA 

N.  CAREY. 

Barnaby  Rudge.     BY  CHARLES  DICK- 
ENS. 
Barrack  Room  Ballads.     BY  RUDYARD 

KIPLING. 

Betrothed.     BY  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 
Beulah.     BY  AUGUSTA  J.  EVANS. 
Black  Beauty,     BY  ANNA  SEWALL. 
Black     Dwarf.     BY      SIR     WALTER 

SCOTT. 

Black  Rock.     BY  RALPH  CONNOR. 
Black  Tulip.     BY  ALEXANDRE  DUMAS. 
Bleak  House.     BY  CHARLES  DICKENS. 
Blithedale  Romance.     BY  NATHANIEL 

HAWTHORNE. 

Bondman.     BY  HALL  CAINE. 
Book   of   Golden   Deeds.     BY    CHAR- 
LOTTE M.  YONGE. 
Boone,  Daniel,  Life  of.     BY  CECIL  B. 

HARTLEY. 


Bride  of  Lammermoor.  BY  SIR 
WALTER  SCOTT. 

Bride  of  the  Nile.     BY  GEORGE  EBERS. 

Browning's  Poems.  BY  ELIZABETH 
BARRETT  BROWNING. 

Browning's  Poems.  (SELECTIONS.) 
BY  ROBERT  BROWNING. 

Bryant's  Poems.  (EARLY.)  BY  WILL- 
IAM CULLEN  BRYANT. 

Burgomaster's  Wife.  BY  GEORGB 
EBERS.. 

Burn's  Poems.     BY  ROBERT  BURNS. 

By  Order  of  the  King.  BY  VICTOR 
HUGO. 

Byron's  Poems.     BY  LORD  BYRON. 

Caesar,  Julius,  Life  of.  BY  JAMES 
ANTHONY  FROUDE. 

Carson,  Kit,  Life  of.  BY  CHARLES 
BURDETT. 

Cary's  Poems.  BY  ALICE  AND  PHOEBE 
GARY. 

Cast  Up  by  the  Sea.  BY  SIR  SAMUEL 
BAKER. 

Charlemagne  (Charles  the  Great),  Life 
of.  BY  THOMAS  HODGKIN.  D.  C.  L. 

Charles  Auchester.     BY  E.  BERGER. 

Character.     BY  SAMUEL  SMILES. 

Charles  O'Malley.  BY  CHARLES 
LEVER. 

Chesterfield's  Letters.  BY  LORD  CHES- 
TERFIELD. 

Chevalier  de  Maison  Rouge.  By 
ALEXANDRE  DUMAS. 

Chicot  the  Jester.  BY  ALEXANDRB 
DUMAS. 

Children  of  the  Abbey.  BY  REGINA 
MARIA  ROCHE. 

Child's  History  of  England.  BY 
CHARLES.  DICKENS. 

Christmas  Stories.  BY  CHARLES 
DICKENS. 

Cloister  and  the  Hearth.  BY  CHARLES 
READE. 

Coleridge's  Poems.  BY  SAMUEL  TAY- 
LOR COLERIDGE. 

Columbus,  Christopher,  Life  of.  BY 
WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

Companions  of  Jehu.  BY  ALEXANDRK 
DUMAS. 

Complete  Angler.  BY  WALTON  AND 
COTTON. 

Conduct  of  Life.  BY  RALPH  WALDO 
EMERSON. 

Confessions  of  an  Opium  Eater.  BY 
THOMAS  DE  QUINCSY. 

Conquest  of  Granada.  BY  WASHING- 
TON IRVING. 

Conscript.     BY  ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN. 

Conspiracy  of  Pontiac.  By  FRANCIS 
PARKMAN,  JR. 

Conspirators.  BY  ALEXANDRE  DU- 
MAS. 

Consuelo.     BY  GEORGE  SAND. 

Cook's  Voyages.  BY  CAPTAIN  JAMES 
COOK. 

Corinne.     BY  MAEAME  DB  STAEL. 

Countess  de  Charney.  BY  ALEXANDRB 
DUMAS. 

Countess    Gisela.     BY    E.    MARLITT. 


BURT'S  HOME  LIBRARY.    Cloth.    Gilt  Tops.    Price,  SI. 00 


Countess  of  Rudolstadt.  BY  GEORGE 
SAND. 

Count  Robert  of  Paris.  BY  SIR 
WALTER  SCOTT. 

Country  Doctor.  BY  HONORE  DB 
BALZAC. 

Courtship  of  Miles  Standish.  BY  H.  W. 
LONGFELLOW. 

Cousin  Maude.     BY  MARY  J.  HOLMES. 

Craniord.     BY  MRS.  GASKELL. 

Crockett,  David,  Life  of.  AN  AUTOBI- 
OGRAPHY. 

Cromwell,  Oliver,  Life  of.  BY  EDWIN 
PAXTOM  HOOD. 

Crown  of  Wild  Olive.  BY  JOHN 
RUSKIN" 

Crusades.     BY  GEO.  W.  Cox,  M.  A. 

Danisl  Deronda.     BY  GEORGE  EI.IOT. 

Darkness  and  Daylight.  BY  MARY  J. 
HOLMES. 

Data  of  Ethics.  BY  HERBERT  SPEN- 
CER. 

Daughter  of  an  Empress,  The.  BY 
LOUISA  MUHLBACH. 

David  Coppcrfield.  BY  CHARLES 
DICKENS. 

Days  of  Bruce.     BY  GRACE  AGUILAR. 

Deemster,  The.     BY  HALL  CAINE. 

Deerslayer,  The.  BY  JAMES  FENI- 
MORE  COOPER. 

Descent  of  Man.  BY  CHARLES  DAR- 
WIN. 

Discourses  of  Epictetus.  TRANSLATED 
BY  GEORGE  LONG. 

Divine  Comedy.  (DANTE.)  TRANS- 
LATED BY  REV.  H.  F.  CAREY. 

Dombey  &  Son.  BY  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

Donal  Grant.     BY  GEORGE  MACDON- 

ALD. 

Donovan.     BY  EDNA  LYALL. 
Dora  Deane.     BY  MARY  J.  HOLMES. 
Dove  in  the  Eagle's  Nest.     BY  CHAR- 
LOTTE M.  YONGE. 

Dream  Life.     BY  IK  MARVEL. 

Dr.  Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde.     BY  R.  L. 

STEVENSON. 

Duty.     BY  SAMUEL  SMILES. 
Early  Days  of  Christianity.     BY  F.  W. 

FARRAR. 

East  Lynne.     BY  MRS.  HENRY  WOOD. 
Edith    Lyle's    Secret.     BY    MARY    J. 

HOLMES. 

Education.     BY  HERBERT  SPENCER. 
Egoist.     BY  GEORGE  MEREDITH. 
Egyptian    Princess.     BY    GEORGE 

EEERS. 

Eight  Hundred  Leagues  on  the  Ama- 
zon.    BY  JULES  VERNE. 
Eliot's  Poems.     BY  GEORGE  ELIOT. 
Elizabeth  c.nd  her  German  Garden. 
Elizabeth  (Queen  of  England),  Life  of. 

BY  EDWARD  SPENCER  BEESLY,  M.A. 
Elsie  Venner.     BY  OLIVER  WENDELL 

HOLMES. 
Emerson's  Essays.     (COMPLETE.)     BY 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 
Emerson's  Poems.     BY  RALPH  WALDO 

EMERSON. 
English    Orphans.      BY     MARY     J. 

HOLMES. 


English  Traits.      BY  R.  W.  EMERSON. 
Essays     in     Criticism.     (FIRST     AND 

SECOND     SERIES.)     BY     MATTHEW 

ARNOLD. 

Essays  of  Elia.     BY  CHARLES  LAMB. 
Esther.     BY  ROSA  N.  CAREY. 
Ethelyn's     Mistake.     BY     MARY     J. 

HOLMES. 
Evengeline.     (WITH   NOTES.)     BY   H. 

W.  LONGFELLOW. 
Evelina.     BY  FRANCES  BURNEY. 
Fair  Maid  of  Perth.     BY  SIR  WALTER 

SCOTT. 
Fairy  Land  of  Science.     BY  ARABELL/ 

B.  BUCKLEY. 
Faust.     (GOETHE.)     TRANSLATED    BY 

ANNA  SWANWICK. 
Felix  Holt.     BY  GEORGE  ELIOT. 
Fifteen  Decisive  Battles  of  the  World. 

BY  E.  S.  CREASY. 

File  No.  113.     BY  EMILE  GABORIAU. 
Firm  of   Girdlestone.     BY  A.   CONAN 

DOYLE. 

First  Principles.  BY  HERBERT  SPENCER. 
First  Violin.     By  JESSIE  FOTHERGILL. 
For  Lilias.     BY  ROSA  N.  CAREY. 
Fortunes  of  Nigel.     BY  SIR  WALTER 

SCOTT. 
Forty-Five  Guardsmen.     BY  ALEXAN- 

DRB  DUMAS. 

Foul  Play.     BY  CHARLES  READE. 
Fragments     of     Science.     BY     JOHN 

TYNDALL. 
Frederick,    the    Great,    Life    of.     BT 

FRANCIS  KUGLER. 
Frederick  the  Great  and  His  Court.     BY 

LOUISA  MUHLBACH. 
French  Revolution.     BY  THOMAS  CAR- 

LYLE 

From   the   Earth   to   the   Moon.     BY 

JULES  VERNE. 

Garibaldi,  General,  Life  of.     BY  THEO- 
DORE DWIGHT. 
Gil  Mas,  Adventures  of.     BY  A.  R.  LB 

SAGE. 
Gold     Bug     and     Other    Tales.     BY 

EDGAR  A.  POE. 
Gold  Elsie.     BY  E.  MARLITT. 
Golden    Treasury.     BY    FRANCIS    T. 

PALGRAVE. 
Goldsmith's      Poems.       BY      OLIVER 

GOLDSMITH. 
Grandfather's  Chair.     BY  NATHANIEL 

HAWTHORNE. 
Grant,  Ulysses  S.,  Life  of.     BY  J.  T. 

HEADLEY. 

Gray's  Poems.     BY  THOMAS  GRAY. 
Great      Expectations.     BY      CHARLES 

DICKENS. 
Greek   Heroes.     Fairy   Tales    for    My 

Children.     BY  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 
Green  Mountain  Boys,  The.     BY  D.  P. 

THOMPSON. 
Grimm's   Household   Tales.     BY   THE 

BROTHERS  GRIMM. 
Grimm's     Popular     Tales.     BY     THE 

BROTHERS  GRIMM. 

Gulliver's  Travels.     BY  DEAN  SWIFT. 
Guy    Mannering.     BY    SIR    WALTER 

SCOTT. 


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